Knowing Her Own Mind
by Agnes Robinson
Summary: AU of Season 2. Picks up after the garden party. Sybil and Tom decide to get married and his past is revealed. Life and love doesn't run smooth but it goes on. First of two stories in same AU. Moving Beyond is the second. M for language and sex.
1. Trying to Tell You

Trying to Tell You

Sybil stood in the now bare grounds of Downton Abbey in early November 1914 and stared towards the garage. The last leaf had long since fallen and the trees stood bare against the early winter sky. "Why didn't he say anything?" she thought to herself. "I held his hand in public. Didn't he understand?" She stamped her foot in frustration. The rules of polite society had been ingrained into her by all of her nannies and governesses over the years, let alone her Granny and mother's lectures.

"Only touch a man in public if you would say, "Yes" to his proposal," they had lectured. "If you do not care for him decline his request for a dance and only allow your hand to be touched in greeting and never touch a servant." So many rules and the subtle details were sometimes beyond confusing.

"I doubt other people have all these stupid rules," she said out loud. She was eighteen years old. She was exactly the age when she was expected to attract a husband from among the wealthy elite or aristocracy. Her season in London had been entertaining, but that was about all. The only man she thought of with any romantic inclination was back at Downton Abbey doing errands for the housekeeper. Every time a man had complimented her or made any type of advance, her mind had gone to a pair of startling blue eyes that could change as fast as the sky on a spring day. When the young men had held her hand to dance with her, she had felt nothing. Well, nothing like when he held her hand to help her out of the car. When she had held his hand at the garden party with just her lace gloves between them, she had felt goose bumps travel up her arms despite the heat of the summer day. Her family wouldn't approve, but then they didn't approve of most of the choices she made.

Every time she looked into his eyes and thought she saw an unasked question there she wanted to scream, "Yes. Yes, I'll be your sweetheart. Yes, I'll defy my family for you. Just ask me and I'll say Yes." It had been two months since the garden party, but he never said a word on a personal note and remained polite and formal discussing politics and current events.

The war was changing things. Already young men were enlisting and lists of casualties filled the papers. All the predictions of a quick war looked like a pipe dream. The wounded were coming into the local hospital and things were getting harder to find in the shops. If it kept up women would be filling the job vacancies and social change would follow. Her suffragette group had agreed to put aside the cause till after the war, but other changes were coming, all one had to do was read the paper to see it. The class barriers would crumble. As far as Sybil was concerned they could go today if it would mean she could be with the man who invaded her dreams and occupied her thoughts.

"What if he enlists?" she thought. Just the thought made her blood run cold. "I can't let him leave without at least trying again, even if he rejects me. I wonder if he is afraid of my father?" Sybil didn't care about the title or the house or the cloths or any of the rest of it. She didn't know how to be an average wife, but she could learn. "What if he doesn't want a wife?" she thought. "Maybe he's just interested in loose girls. Why is this so hard?" She took a deep breath, pulled her sweater tighter around her and headed off to find the family chauffeur.

Tom Branson was laying on his back on a dolly under the front end of one of the family cars when a pair of shoes showed up beside him and a pretty face with dark hair looked down through the engine compartment.

"What are you doing out on a day like this? It's about to rain," he asked.

"I'm just out for a walk."

Tom swung himself out from under the car and wiped his hands on a rag.

"I was reading an article in the paper and I saved it for you. I thought you might be interested," he said.

"There it was again," she thought. "Polite conversation about current events." When Sybil looked at him, his eyes seemed to be pleading with her, wanting to say something that he thought was forbidden.

She moved to stand next to him at the tool bench and looked at the article he handed her. She had so much in her heart that wanted to spring out but she didn't know how to say it.

"Branson, can I ask you something?" she said after she read the article.

"What is it?"

"If you left here where would you go?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Just curious, I guess. I have thought of leaving here, but I'm not sure where I would go."

"Back home, I suppose," he said after a moment.

"Do you have a sweetheart there?"

"No, I don't. Why all the questions all of a sudden?"

"I'm trying to understand something," Sybil said. She was frowning with concentration and placed the newspaper article back on the bench before she shredded it with her nervous fingers.

"How do you know if a girl likes you?"

He was staring at her intently now and had turned towards her. Sybil still stood staring down at the tool bench. Not looking up.

"You just do," he said with a slight laugh.

"That's not how it works in my parent's world," she said. "I tried to tell someone once that I would like him to be my beau despite all the barriers, but I don't think he understood. There are so many rules for conduct in my life, I think it would all be lost on someone not raised with them."

Tom could feel his chest squeezing with jealousy. He wanted to tear whoever the man was to shreds. He was a lost cause with anything to do with her. He couldn't even resist answering her questions. If any of the rest of her family overheard them he would be chucked out on his ear before the end of the day.

"He must have been a fool," he replied barely above a whisper.

Sybil reached down and smoothed the newspaper article lying on the bench before she looked up into his face.

"Yes, you are," she said before she turned and hurried away.

Tom stood dumbstruck on the spot with his mouth slightly ajar. "Had he just heard what he thought he had?" he wondered. He reached for his jacket and hurried out the door to find her.

The rain had started to fall while Sybil was in the garage and now hit her face and sweater in fat, splattering drops. She headed towards the side door of the main house. Right now she didn't want to face her family or any of the servants. She couldn't believe how forward she had just been. She had watched her sister Mary toy with men and drop them as soon as she saw someone else she liked better, but those antics weren't for her. If he didn't respond, she would have to force herself to forget him and move on. She thought he liked her. He talked to her and seemed interested in her opinions, but he could just be polite and humoring his employer's youngest daughter. It was all so confusing.

It was raining hard now as she rounded the corner of the house. Sybil was almost to the door when she felt a hand touch her arm. Tom stood just behind her in his green uniform jacket that was now getting soaked from the deluge of rain. His hair was gathering water and it ran down his face in trickles.

"I've told myself and told myself you're too high above me," he said. "I almost can't believe what you said."

Sybil looked into his eyes. They were full of affection, affection for her. His face was so kind and sincere, so totally unlike the false flattery and compliments paid by the young men of her class.

"You can believe it," she said in a soft voice.

"Sybil, I know your family will be an obstacle, but they will come around in time. I can't offer you much but I will make something of myself, I promise you. I'll devote myself to your happiness, if you'll have me."

"Our happiness."

"What?"

"I'll defy my family. I'll throw convention to the wind if you devote yourself to our happiness, not just mine."

"Then your answer is…?"

"Yes."

Tom took a step towards her and tilted his head to kiss her.

"You can kiss me," she said. "But that is all until we are wed."

His arms moved around her as his lips met hers. Sybil thought she would drown in the sensation of his kiss. Her first kiss made her feel like the ground was spinning under her feet and she found herself clinging to his shoulders for support. When she regained her senses she realized they were standing in the rain getting soaked to the skin. They were against the side of her parent's house that was fully exposed to the view from the main gate. Thank goodness it was pouring rain and no one was outside or walking to the village.

"This is going to sound silly," said Sybil with a slight laugh. "But what is your first name? I can't very well call you Branson now." Her hand came up to touch the side of his face.

"Tom," he said. "You should go in before you're missed."

"I'll come and find you tonight after dinner. We can talk."

He only nodded as he turned to walk back to the garage through the rain.


	2. Rain

Rain

Sybil couldn't stop smiling as she changed her cloths and dried her hair that afternoon. She knew they wouldn't be able to get married right away as her father would never give his permission although she was over sixteen and legally at the age of consent. The biggest problem was her lack of skills of any kind. She would love to go to college and find a worthwhile career. Instead she had been equipped with an arsenal of polite comments to start a conversation in a drawing room, a working knowledge of French and German and the ability to choose the correct outfit for any occasion. "Not much to bring to a marriage," she thought. "I don't think I have ever made a cup of tea for myself, let alone done the wash."

She loved her parents and sisters but this life was stifling her. This act of defiance made her smaller ones up to now look like nothing. She would most likely be disowned at least for a while. There had to be a way, but it would not be easy no matter what. The other day Cousin Isobel had mentioned the hospitals would need nurses now that the war was on. Sybil wondered if there was anyway she could ever be accepted in a nursing school without a formal education. Perhaps she could talk to Cousin Isobel about it and her fiancé.

"My fiancé," she said the words aloud for the first time to her empty room. She threw herself back on her bed and allowed herself to relive that kiss. It was going to take all her training to restrain herself in her family's presence when she saw him. She didn't know how engaged people did it when they sat polite and distant in a drawing room if everyone felt what she had.

"You seem far away tonight," her mother had said during dinner.

"Just thinking about the war and how to do my part," said Sybil. It was only a slight lie as she had been thinking about it earlier.

"That is very commendable," said her father. "I'm sure the hospital appreciates your help with the fundraising."

"I was thinking I would like to do more than that," said Sybil. Luckily the rainstorm had kept Granny home tonight or there would have been a lecture on the role of a young woman of the aristocracy.

"Like what?" her father inquired.

"Perhaps nursing. I was thinking of making some inquiries about training," Sybil said.

"I don't think that is suitable for someone of your rank," said her father.

"I just said I was considering it," said Sybil. This was going to be harder than she thought. Just wait until they found out whom she planned to marry. Luckily they couldn't hear her thoughts.

After everyone had headed to their rooms, Sybil stopped by Mary's room to let Anna know she would not need her for the evening.

"I can be right there in a few minutes," Anna said.

"Don't bother," said Sybil. "I can see to my own hair."

"As you wish, milady."

Sybil headed back to her room and changed her cloths to something less formal. It was still raining and she dare not go down to the main hall for her coat. She took out a small lap blanket from a chest at the foot of the bed and folded it into a triangle to use as a shawl. Once the hall was quiet, she slipped through the door to the servant's stairs and headed outdoors. It was cold out. Despite her makeshift shawl and holding her skirt up to keep it out of the muck, her teeth were chattering and she was thoroughly soaked by the time she reached the garage.

"Sybil, you shouldn't have come," Tom said. "You'll catch your death."

"I'll warm up soon enough," she said.

Tom only frowned at her slightly and put his arm around her to guide her to a door at the side of the garage.

"Not out here you won't," he said.

He flicked the switch to put out the lights in the garage and guided her through the door and a small corridor into the sitting room of the chauffeur's cottage. He took the damp shawl from her and wrapped an afghan around her then proceeded to light the fire in the grate.

"You stay here and take off your wet cloths," he said after she had sat on the small sofa. "I'm going to make you some tea and get you some dry cloths to wear. Don't argue."

She had opened her mouth to protest but almost on cue the wind and rain picked up and began pelting the side of the cottage even harder. She could only nod her head and do as he said. Tom returned a few moments later with a small pile of clothing and headed off to finish making her tea. As she pulled a hand knit sweater over her head and donned a pair of his grey flannel pants she felt her body begin to warm and her teeth stopped chattering. Everything was much too big for her and she didn't dare stand or the trousers would have fallen off. Once Tom had made the tea he came back and put his arm around her pulling her in close to his side. He had changed his cloths and was wearing a plain white shirt and brown trousers. Sybil was a little taken aback as she had never seen him in anything but his uniform.

She felt herself relax against him as she warmed up. Once she finished the tea he curled his hand around both of hers. The only light in the room came from the fire. They stayed like that in silence each lost in their own thoughts until Tom finally spoke.

"Why weren't you wearing a coat?" Tom asked her. "I don't want you getting sick."

"I couldn't go downstairs to get one," Sybil said. "Sometimes I feel like that house is more prison than a home. I was thinking about you tonight at dinner and had to make something up quick when my mother asked why I was lost in thought."

"I hope you were thinking something nice," he said with a slight smile.

"I was thinking how nice it was to be able to say my fiancé," she said suddenly feeling shy. "I'm still in a bit of shock I guess. I waited and waited for you to say something. I started to think you didn't even like me that much."

"Don't ever doubt it," he said as he leaned over and placed a kiss on her mouth. "I must admit you took me by surprise as well. We make a fine pair, don't we?"

"Better than fine," Sybil said with a slight laugh. "Maybe we're too much alike for our own good."

"Perhaps," he murmured before he kissed her again.

"I've been thinking about how to get my family to accept us. Well, about everything really," Sybil said a short while later. "Cousin Isobel was mentioning the need for nurses with the war on. I was thinking about trying to get into nursing school. Would you mind waiting to get married?"

"There's nothing wrong with wanting something more out of life. It can't hurt to make some inquiries. It will take some time to get enough together for a start for us anyway. I don't want to begin our life together with nothing."

"I have so little in the way of practical skills. I don't want to be a burden," Sybil said. "I don't even know how to make a bed or put the kettle on. It's ridiculous and I'm going to change it."

"I don't doubt you will. I've seen what happens when you put your mind to something," he teased.

Sybil allowed her eyes to drift shut. It was nice to be here with him and have someone actually praise her ideas rather than scoff at them. She had made the right decision to marry him. She was sure of it. When she opened her eyes again light was coming in around the shutters and the sound of birds singing after the rain could be heard. At first Sybil didn't know where she was until she realized she was lying against Tom's chest and wearing unfamiliar cloths. She sat up, quickly pulled on her skirt and shoes and gathered the rest of her cloths into a ball. She leaned down to kiss Tom on the cheek. He woke with a start.

"I'll see you back to the house," he said.

"No, it's safer if I make my own way," Sybil said. "I know how to get in and out without being seen."

They held hands as they walked to the door. Tom stuck his head out to see if anyone was around before she left. The cottage was set away from the rest of the estate cottages and there were seldom passersby this early in the morning.

"Right, off you go," he said after he gave her a quick hug.

Sybil dashed across the lawns staying close to the hedges along the back of the house. Her path wasn't a straight one and she had jumped back behind a large tree when she saw one of the under house boys pass by, but she had finally made it to her room undetected. Once there she let down her hair and shed everything but the sweater and climbed into her bed. It smelled of Tom's shaving cream and reminded her of the feel of his arms around her. She had never seen a sweater like it before. It was an off white color with intricate patterns knit into the sleeves and body. It was warm and comforting. When she finally fell asleep she had a smile on her face and his name on her lips.


	3. What's Happened to Lady Sybil?

What's Happened to Lady Sybil?

A few days later Tom was sitting in the servant's hall waiting to drive the Dowager Countess back to her residence when Lady Sybil's latest antics became the topic of discussion. He had to steel himself to keep his gaze on his newspaper and stop from laughing. He had heard all about the changes Sybil was trying to make from her when he had driven her to Crawley House in the village that afternoon. He knew how hard she was trying and encouraged her, but some of the reactions she had described to her ideas had been humorous.

"She asked Anna for a list of the cleaning duties for her room. She said she wanted to try doing them herself and that she didn't want the biscuit container in her room filled either," said one of the junior maids. "She had made the bed and it was all crooked. I had to sneak back later when she was out and fix it in case her mother saw."

"She asked me to show her a few simple hair styles," said Miss O'Brien. "That girl will be the death of her mother. She informed her that she would no longer accept the help of a ladies maid. I ask you, how does she expect to dress herself for dinner?"

"Now she wants cooking lessons," Daisy piped in. "I don't see why not. She's nice."

"I suppose you had something to do with this," Miss O'Brien turned her gaze on Tom who had to concentrate to keep a straight face.

"Why would you say that Miss O'Brien?"

"When that one gets up to no good, you're usually not far away."

"What would I know about housecleaning?" he said with feigned disinterest.

"Quite so," said Mrs. Hughes as she entered the servants' hall. "Lady Sybil has asked for cooking lessons and Mrs. Patmore has agreed starting tomorrow. You will all be on your best behavior while she is in the kitchens."

Mrs. Hughes turned and left to attend to other matters.

"I think it's good to learn how to do for your self," said another of the maids. "I don't see why she can't learn."

"You just mind your place," snapped Miss O'Brien.

Sybil had indeed started cooking lessons the next day and Tom had made every excuse to hover around the kitchens and servants' hall like an expectant father. He had teased her relentlessly about her gravy and puddings. He was rewarded for his teasing by having to taste each of her culinary creations. He had nodded and smiled at each of them although well over half had been slipped to her father's dog waiting under the table for handouts.

"I made a stew today that tasted like it was supposed to," Sybil told him proudly when she came to see him in the garage that afternoon. "You weren't around. I wanted you to try it."

The truth was his stomach was hurting from tasting all her failed attempts and he had been relieved when he had a number of trips booked that morning.

"I had to drive your mother and sisters into Ripon," he said. "How are you making out with your school inquiries?"

"Cousin Isobel has been helping me. There are two schools I've written to. One is in London and the other York. Each of them has an auxiliary program that is two months or a full program that lasts a year. I would like to do the full program, but I haven't talked to my father about it yet. He won't like it no matter which one I get accepted to, if they accept me at all."

"You'll get there," he said in way of encouragement. "Look how far you've come in less than a week."

"True," she said as she moved to slide her arms around his waist and leaned her head against him. "What would I do without you?"

"I guess you would have to find another poor man to feed your cooking to," he teased. For which he received a swat on the shoulder.

"What are you doing on your half day?" Sybil inquired.

"Not much," Tom shrugged non-committedly. "I was going to take the bus into York. I have something I wanted to buy."

He reached out and pulled her back into his arms and kissed her just below her ear.

"I wish I could go with you, but you know how it is."

"Mmmm," he said, as he placed a deeper kiss on her lips. They both jumped when they heard footsteps and the garage door creak. Tom turned to see William the footman standing there looking somewhat perplexed at finding Lady Sybil in the garage.

"Lady Mary would like the car brought around," William said. "Did you need anything Lady Sybil? I could have run a message down for you."

"No, thank you William. I'm quite done here. I'll walk back to the house with you," she said. "Thank you Branson, you were most helpful."

"Lady Sybil."

As Sybil walked back to the house accompanied by William she worried that he might have seen something. One look at William's innocent face dispelled her worries. They would have to be much more careful in future.

In the afternoon post was a letter from the college in London offering Sybil a spot on the year-long program commencing next Friday if she could pass the screening interview on the Wednesday. She got on her hat and coat to walk into the village to discuss the prospect with Cousin Isobel. She wasn't supposed to walk off the estate without an escort, but Tom had driven Mary somewhere and Sybil wasn't about to ask Mr. Carson. She had enough of his disapproving looks during her cooking lessons.

That evening at dinner Sybil took a deep breath glanced at Cousin Isobel for reassurance and broached the topic of college with her family.

"I received a letter today," she said. "I've been offered a spot at a nurse's training college in London starting next week."

"I suppose this was your idea?" her Granny asked Cousin Isobel.

"No, it was Sybil's," said Cousin Isobel. "Even the royal princesses are taking training now and serving as volunteer nurses. It's perfectly respectable."

"I want to do something useful for the war effort," said Sybil.

"But you are dear," said her mother.

"I mean beyond selling programs for fundraisers. I want to do something that matters. Not just now, after the war too."

"I don't like the sound of this," said her father.

"One can hardly argue with the royal family, Robert," said her mother. "I think Sybil should go."

"I see I am out voted in this," Robert said. "Very well, but you will travel with an escort and if I hear of any scandal or political nonsense you will come straight home."

"Oh Papa, the count was months ago and I learned my lesson," said Sybil with a smile. "Thank you for letting me go."

"Just don't make me regret this," was all he said.

"What's next?" said her Granny. "I hope you haven't taken up any of your sister's modern ideas Edith."

All Edith could do was roll her eyes.

Over the next few days, Sybil doubled her efforts at learning to do for herself. She could now make toast without turning it black and her porridge was smooth without lumps in it, but rolling out pastry still eluded her. Her cleaning and bed making skills had improved and she could make a bed that looked straight and stayed in place instead of the sheets pulling out as soon as you got in. On Monday the arrangements for travel were made and Sybil was almost packed. Since the letter had arrived and her parents had given their consent for her to attend the course in London she had not had a chance to see Tom alone.

That evening once her grandmother had been driven home and the house was settled for the night, Sybil slipped out to see Tom and return his sweater. All her effort would be for nothing if one of the maids found a man's sweater in her room after she left. She put it on over her nightdress and jacket and pulled on a sturdy pair of shoes. It was clear out and she had no problem making her way across the lawns. When she got to the garage it was dark. She made her way to the door connecting to Tom's quarters and let herself in.

"Tom," she called quietly. "Tom." There was no response. She bumped into some of the furniture in the kitchen. There was enough light from the moon coming in that she could make out his uniform jacket hanging over the back of one of the chairs. He was here she just had to find him. The first door she tried was a small closet. The next led to the stairs.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she said to herself as she headed up the stairs. On the landing she tried the first door on the right and stopped when she realized she was in his room and he was fast asleep. She took off his sweater and laid it on a chair next to a small table. Then she took off her coat and put it with the sweater and kicked off her shoes.

"Tom," she said as she reached out and touched his shoulder.

"What?" he mumbled still half asleep.

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. His arm encircled her waist and he pulled her across him and onto the bed as his mouth came down on hers in a kiss that robbed her of her breath and left her in no doubt of the strength of the attraction between them. It was then she realized being in a man's bedroom might lead to more than she expected. His tongue was in her mouth and her arms went around him pulling him closer of their own accord. His hand came up to her breast and she gasped at his touch. She could feel the hardness of his body through the blankets on the bed. It made her pulse race and sent a burning desire through her to explore what lay beneath those blankets. She moved her free hand to slide across his bare chest and marveled at the feeling of the fine hair against her fingertips.

He grabbed the covers with one hand and pulled them over both of them as he rolled her onto her back and continued kissing her. His lips trailed across her jaw and neck. He opened the tie at the neckline of her nightdress and pushed the fabric to the side to reveal her breasts. As his lips took the tip of one into his mouth, Sybil thought her body would fall to pieces with longing and desire for more.

The hem of her nightdress was pushed up to her waist and her legs had wrapped themselves around him. Her body was moving without conscious effort. For a fleeting second the thought we shouldn't be doing this entered her mind, only to be pushed out by the passion of the moment.

He was kissing her deeply again and all she could do was wrap herself around him and press herself into his body. She wanted to feel him. Every inch of him against her and her wadded up nightdress was getting in the way. She reached down and pushed it off, then wrapped her legs back around his pulling him closer.

When Sybil felt him enter her body, she was overcome with new sensations. She pulled away for a second against the pain as she felt her virginity tear away. He stroked her hair and whispered comforting sounds to her until the pain faded and was replaced again with new sensations. She couldn't get enough of his lips on hers and her body twisted and moved against his as her passion built and fed on itself. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps. When he took her nipple into his mouth and sucked she cried out his name as her vision swam with light. She felt his body shudder with his release as her own tremors began to subside. She slowly regained consciousness of where she was and realization dawned of what they had just done.

"I didn't mean… I just wanted to talk to you….I'm sorry," she said as the tears spilled from her eyes.

"Hush, darling," he said as he pulled her tight against him as he rolled on his back. "You have nothing to be sorry for. We didn't plan this but everything is fine. Don't cry. I love you. I'm not going anywhere without you. I didn't hurt you did I? I wasn't expecting you to be here tonight."

She shook her head against his chest not looking up. He stroked her hair and her back until her tears stopped. He reached over and pulled something from the table beside the bed.

"I feel so stupid. I told you I wanted to wait until we were married and then I…"

"What's done is done. I don't regret it one bit. You shouldn't either. I got you something. I hope you like it. I thought you could wear it under your uniform at the college."

He held up a gold chain with a ring on it. The ring was a narrow band with a garnet center with hearts on either side.

"I don't know if I asked you properly to be my wife," Tom said. "Sybil Crawley would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

"Yes, of course I will," she said as she held up her hand and allowed him to put the ring on her finger. "How did you know the size?"

"You left your gloves in the car one day," he said. "By the way, what are you doing here? Not that I mind." He pulled her slightly closer against him in reassurance.

"I wanted to talk about the trip to London and return your sweater. Papa said I had to travel with an escort and I may have hinted to Mama that you would be the perfect choice to see to my bags and keep an eye on me."

Both of them began to laugh at the image.

"That's rather like letting the fox into the hen house, isn't it?" he joked. His face got suddenly more serious. "You know this could move things along drastically. Promise me you will let me know right away if we are going to have a child. We can be married by special license in two weeks."

"I promise you I will, either way as soon as I know," she said. "Promise me you won't enlist. I couldn't stand to think of you in the war."

"I'm not planning on it. You know I don't believe in violence or this war. It's nothing but a fool's errand. I have no intention of ever being part of the British army." Changing the topic he said, "So tell me all about the big plans for London. I've already had a long lecture from your father and another from Mr. Carson about how I am to take care of you. Especially no political rallies or anything else your father wouldn't approve of."

They both began to laugh again at how ludicrous the statement was, especially as everything between them would not be approved of.

"We'll, be staying at my Aunt Rosamund's. She's out of town, so we'll have to find our own way around. The cook and butler are there, but not the chauffeur. She doesn't have a very big staff. If we stay out of the area where my parent's and aunt live no one will recognize us. You don't have to wear your uniform when we're in London. We can act like any other courting couple. I have the interview on Wednesday morning and they will let me know if I am accepted by Thursday. Otherwise we have the rest of the time to ourselves."

"Are you nervous?"

"Yes, a little. I want to do things differently, but still it's a big step."

"You'll do fine. I have every confidence in you. Now my love, as much as I would like you to stay here all night, I think you should go back to the house."

Tom got up with her and pulled on his cloths. Before they left his cottage he wrote out his mother's address in Ireland and got something from the small desk by the kitchen window.

"If anything ever goes wrong," he said as he handed her the items. "No, hush now. You know as well as I, if your family ever found out about us and what we've been up to they would move heaven and earth to keep us apart. This," he indicated the paper, "is my mother's address. Show her my rosary. She'll know its mine and take you in until I can join you."

Sybil stood on tiptoe and kissed him.

"What did I do to deserve you?" she asked.

"The same thing I did to deserve you," was all he said before they stepped out the door and headed back to the main house hand in hand.


	4. Heading to London

Heading to London

Tom stood by the car in his usual posture waiting by the door as Sybil said goodbye to her mother and sisters the next afternoon. Mr. Carson had summoned him into his office after breakfast and handed him an envelope with two hundred pounds and two first class train tickets to London. He was to see to anything Lady Sybil desired while in London for the next two days.

"It is unseemly for ladies in her position to be seen handling cash," Mr. Carson declared. "You have been given the responsibility of her welfare, don't let his lordship down. We'll see you back on Friday once she is settled either way."

"What would anyone do with two hundred pounds in a matter of a few days?" Tom wondered to himself. Sybil's world was at times a mystery to him. No wonder she thought he didn't understand.

Sybil looked decidedly downcast today. Despite her bravado she was still a girl with a sheltered upbringing. He had been taken by surprise last night when she showed up in his room and by the time he had come fully awake things had progressed beyond the point of turning back. She was at times too naive for her own good but at the same time it was part of her charm. If anyone ever found out about last night there would be hell to pay, but they wouldn't find out from him.

His upbringing had been somewhat sheltered although not so grand as hers. It was not something he shared with people. The less people who knew that he had been sent to seminary at the age of fourteen the better he liked it. He was from an Irish catholic family where it was almost the rule that one son become a priest. When you were the only son, you didn't get much choice. He had been good at school and liked books so had been turned into an alter boy at a young age then straight to seminary. He had lasted until he was twenty. Three years before he would have taken final vows.

To say he didn't agree with the church's politics in Ireland was an understatement. It had made him sick to see the quest for money from Rome and disregard for the plight of the poor all the while keeping them subservient to the church. Some of the teachings though were ingrained into his soul. He couldn't bring himself to break Lent, yet he felt no remorse about his feeling or actions where Sybil was concerned. The feelings he had for her were as natural as breathing, how could they ever be considered a sin. He only kissed one girl before, and that was on a school playground when he was twelve. He had got a swat on the side of the head for his efforts from the sister when she had caught him.

He didn't know how to tell Sybil about his past. It wasn't exactly something one mentions in a casual conversation. "Oh by the way, I spent six years training to be a priest." There were already enough strikes against him when the day came to tell her family they were getting married. It would just be another nail in the coffin.

He found a spot to park the car. Pratt would come and retrieve it later in the day. By the time Tom had moved around the side of the car. Sybil was already out and waiting for him.

"You look lovely this afternoon," he told her.

"Thank you," she replied. "I have a bad case of nerves. I'm glad you are coming with me."

"I'm glad too."

He pulled her cases out of the back of the car along with his smaller one. When she moved to carry one of her own cases, he stopped her.

"No Lady Sybil, you are not carrying your own cases."

"Oh Tom, why ever not. You know I don't like to be waited on and don't call me Lady Sybil."

"While we're here where people know us, I'm still your chauffeur."

They had reached the first class section and found a coach that was unoccupied. Tom took the tickets out of his inside pocket and handed them to the conductor as he came around. When they were finally alone and had closed the door on the coach, Tom took her hand in his.

"Now my love, tell me why you aren't supposed to handle your own money. Mr. Carson gave me a ridiculously large amount of cash and told me to buy anything you wanted over the next few days."

"It's another one of those ridiculous rules," Sybil shook her head with a small smile. "I'm not supposed to touch it because it has touched the hands of a commoner." She looked at him with a mischievous look. "I'm not supposed to touch a servant either but there is one I rather enjoy touching."

He leaned over and gave her a kiss. They had pulled the blinds on the compartment so no one could see them, but the train was busy this morning and they could be interrupted at any moment.

"We'll have to break both those rules over the next few days," he said with a twinkle in his eyes. "I think you should know how to handle money. At least get used to paying for things. You won't be locked in the dormitory or at your Aunt's all the time. You need to know the basics."

He pulled the envelop with the money out of his inside pocket.

"Here take twenty pounds. We'll ease you into it gradually."

"Isn't that a lot?" Sybil asked looking a little more frightened at the challenges of her new life.

"Its what the average working man makes in a month," he said. "It's no small sum."

"I've never had to think about it before," Sybil said. "Although I used to ask my father about money, he would never discuss it with me. You know Granny managed the estate through some very lean times. She can be incredibly frugal, for our class anyway."

"You've changed a lot about yourself already. You'll learn this too. Just be patient."

They were half way to London and no one had come into the coach. Sbyil leaned against Tom's shoulder and tried to relax.

"I didn't get much sleep last night," she said.

"I wonder why not," he said with a grin. He felt a small fist give his shoulder a playful punch.

"Besides that! I was worried about the interview."

"Stop worrying, you will be fine. You're pretty and smart and lovely and determined. Did I mention beautiful?"

"You're good for my ego," she said with a laugh.

"Hopefully, I'm good for more than your ego," he said with a smile. "Now come here." He put his arm around her and pulled her closer. "Try to go to sleep at least for a little while."

"First I need a kiss from my betrothed."

"Lady Sybil, I am here to do your bidding," he teased before he happily obliged her.

* * *

They arrived at her Aunt's House in the early evening. Tom was in his uniform from the trip and dutifully carried her cases up the stairs to the guest room behind the butler. Sybil was visibly drooping from the apprehension of the coming interview and the lack of sleep. Sybil's interview was at nine the next morning and they had agreed to leave at seven thirty to give themselves enough time to find the correct building as they had no motor and would be relying on cabs or steam trains.

"I'm afraid Lady Sybil that while your Aunt is on this extended trip, most of the staff has been sent on leave," said the butler. "We have no maids to see to your needs. Your man will have to do the bulk of the work."

Sybil used her most practiced aristocratic façade and kept a straight face. She could care less if she had a maid.

"I'm sure he will do fine," she said. "May I have my dinner sent up on a tray tonight please?"

"Of course, Lady Sybil," he said. He bowed before he left.

Tom's face was the picture of devilment, when he too bowed and said, "Lady Sybil."

Sybil stuck her tongue out at him before he turned and left the room.


	5. Interview Day

Interview Day

The next morning promptly at seven there was a knock on Sybil's door. When she bid the person on the other side to come in Tom walked in carrying her breakfast tray on one arm. He turned and closed the door behind him before he spoke.

"How did you sleep, darling?"

"Fine, thank you. I was worn out yesterday. Why did they send you up with the tray?"

"Mr. Jennings came down with a bad case of gout, so I have been elected to act as your ladies maid, butler and escort," Tom said with a slight laugh.

"We could add a few titles of our own to that," Sybil said with a grin. "I would rather come down to the kitchen for my meals, but I would hear no end of it from my family." She had just finished pinning her hair and went to the tray to get a cup of tea. She had made the bed and hung up her suit from the previous day.

"When we're married and have a home of our own, you can eat wherever you like. If you hang your suit from yesterday in the bathroom, the steam when you take a bath will take the wrinkles out," he volunteered.

"How do you know so much about all of this?" Sybil asked. "You are always so well put together, but you do it all yourself."

"The school where I went when I was a teenager had a lot of requirements for dress and deportment. I will tell you about it sometime, but not now. I have to get back downstairs before the cook's tongue starts to wag. Will you be ready in half an hour?"

"Yes, that's fine," said Sybil.

Tom had called for a cab to take them to the nursing school. Before they left he gave her some advice on dealing with cabbies in a strange city.

"Make sure you agree on a maximum fare before you leave," he told her. "An old trick is to drive people around in circles to run up the fare, especially in a place like London where so many of the streets look the same. You can wind up paying triple if you're not careful."

"How am I going to remember all of it?" Sybil queried.

"Today you will know how much it should cost from your Aunt's to the school. We'll figure out the steam trains as well later, so you shouldn't have any problems. Most people make the same trip over and over, so you get to know the route. After a while you won't even think about it."

"I must seem like such a child," Sybil fretted.

"No, you don't. Everyone has different things to learn." He leaned closer and whispered in her ear. "I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on especially in the moonlight."

Sybil blushed profusely just as the cab pulled up to the front gate. True to his word, Tom discussed the trip with the driver and agreed on the fare before they left. Sybil was sure they had been charged much higher for a trip to the same area when she had been in London with her family. If she was going to be the wife of a workingman and live on a budget she had a lot more to learn.

Forty minutes later they had moved through the snarl of morning traffic in central London, crossed the river and pulled up in front of the college. Tom paid the cabbie and included a small tip. The city was different than Sybil remembered it from her previous visits. Dirigibles hung over the city to prevent bombing raids, the streets were full of uniformed soldiers and everywhere you looked there were posters urging young men to join up. The college where they were headed included a hospital, medical school and nursing school that had been established over a hundred years earlier. Also on the campus were dormitories for the nursing students and a large medical library.

They consulted a map and headed towards the building where Sybil would be interviewed. She was wearing her best aristocratic face that belied her inner tension. Anyone looking at her would think she was a picture of calm although Tom knew her well enough to know when she was hiding her feelings. It took them over half an hour to make their way through the tangle of corridors and connecting buildings to get to their destination.

"I'll come back and wait for you here at ten," Tom told her. They were in the lobby of the nursing school. There were sofas and chairs set around small tables. Circulars sat on the tables and there was a large bulletin board on one wall.

"Wish me luck," Sybil said as she headed towards the stairs to find her interview room.

"I do," said Tom as he watched her go.

Tom had wandered around the area of the college until he found a newsstand that carried a variety of international papers. He bought two different ones that he had not seen for some time before he went to sit in the lobby and loose himself in his favorite pastime. Sybil showed up two hours later with a huge smile on her face and carrying a large folder over her arm.

"They made an immediate decision and offered me a seat," she told him excitedly. "I have a book list and I need to order the uniform today. I can't believe I got in."

"It's wonderful news my love. I knew they would like you," he praised. "If it's what you want, then its what I want."

The sat down again in the lobby to go through the folder and figure out all the stops Sybil would need to make to prepare for Friday. While Tom had been looking for the newsstand he had spotted a small pub that was open for lunch. They headed there before embarking on her list of items for the afternoon. After they settled and placed their order a young woman in her early twenties stopped by their table.

"Brother Tom?" she said. "I thought I recognized you."

"Sister Mary Glenn," Tom said in recognition and standing to welcome her. "I'm surprised to see you here. It's just Tom now. This is my fiancée Sybil Crawley."

"I'm pleased to meet you," she said to Sybil. "I'm attending a course at the nursing school across the way. With all the new ailments and injuries we are seeing now, the order has to keep up."

"How do you do?" said Sybil. "Won't you join us?"

"Please do," said Tom.

"Thank you, I will," she said. "It's not often I see a familiar face in London. How long ago did you leave Tom?"

"Three years ago now. I work in Yorkshire."

"The brotherhood must miss you."

"I doubt it," said Tom. "The day I left I gave the bishop's roast beef dinner plus all the trimmings to the women begging at the door before I walked out. I could hear him yelling as I headed down the road."

Sybil was much too polite to ask outright exactly to what they were referring but she made a mental note to ask Tom about it later in the day.

Sister Mary Glenn laughed at the picture Tom painted. "You never were one for obedience to the rules," she said.

Just then the waitress came to take her order.

"How long have you been engaged?" Sister Mary Glenn asked turning to Sybil.

"Just a few weeks," said Sybil. "I've just been accepted to nursing school for the year long program. We won't be getting married until after I complete my studies."

"It's a good school. They are very strict but teach the latest techniques. It is hard to get my prayers in and respect daily silence though. They aren't the custom here."

Sybil had a puzzled look on her face.

"Sister Mary Glenn is a nun, Sybil," Tom explained.

"You're not catholic?" she inquired of Sybil.

"No, I'm not."

"Well, don't believe everything you hear about catholic boys, even if most of it is true," she teased.

"Don't be filling her head with any nonsense," Tom said with a laugh.

"Well, your fiancé's antics were the stuff of legend in Dublin," she told Sybil. "Has he told you about the time he got caught racing the bishop's limousine against Lady Hester O'Shay's driver?"

"You did what?" Sybil asked with her eyebrows raised.

"It was for a good cause," Tom said with a cocky smile. "I won enough to supply the local orphanage with food for six months. I only spent two months doing penance. I didn't know my place even then."

Just then the food arrived and Sister Mary Glenn proceeded to say grace. Tom crossed himself, as did she. Sybil knew Tom did not attend the village church but had never really asked her self why. She was starting to understand some of it. She wasn't going to let him charm his way out of the conversation they needed to have later.

The rest of the afternoon was filled with trying to navigate the school and lining up at every stop. Sybil had been quite proud to purchase her textbooks herself and placed the order for uniforms that would be waiting for her when she reported to the dormitory on Friday. By the time she had completed all the required forms at the registrar's office and obtained her library card, she was ready for a break.

"Nobody said registering for college would be such an exhausting activity," Sybil said.

"It comes with the territory I believe," said Tom. "Let's find a tea shop before we head back to drop off your books at your Aunt's. What do you want to do tonight?"

"Let's go to a play or the cinema. My father would never allow either activity. I've always wanted to go."

"Alright we'll check the listings and pick something."

"And I want to know about your past."

"Sybil," Tom said with a look of annoyance. "Its not something I talk about."

Sybil stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and turned towards Tom and waited until he realized she was standing still.

"If I am going to be your wife, then I deserve the truth. Tom Branson what are you hiding?"

"It's nothing terrible and not something to talk about in the middle of a London sidewalk," he said. "I'll tell you when were alone."

"Today," Sybil pushed.

"Yes, today."

They had tea and then took the steam trolley back to her Aunt's home. Sybil pointed out where her parent's house was located. It was closed for the season and only had a part time housekeeper who went by to check on it a few times a week. When they entered the house, they deposited her books by the front entrance and Sybil went to telephone her family and tell them her news.

"The doctor's been," the cook told Tom. "Mr. Jennings will be off his feet for the next week. This is supposed to be my half-day, so I made your evening meal and it is in the warmer. I'm afraid the young miss will have to make due with stew and biscuits. I'm off to my sister's. Can you take Mr. Jennings a tray as well?"

"Don't worry about a thing," said Tom. "It's been a long day. I don't know if Lady Sybil will want to go out again this evening. I'm sure whatever you prepared will be fine."

Tom was inwardly groaning at the conversation he knew was coming with his fiancée. She was right. She did deserve the truth. He just didn't know how she was going to take it.

An hour or so later he was freshly shaven and had seen to Mr. Jennings. He went in search of Sybil to find out when she wanted to have dinner. He knocked on her door. When she opened the door she threw her arms around his neck and clung to him. Her body was wracking with suppressed sobs.

"Sybil what's wrong?" he asked as he moved her back into the room and closed the door.

"I talked to Mary. She said I was being foolish and wanted me to come home. Papa wasn't much better. Cousin Isobel and you are the only ones who are supporting my desire to become a nurse. I knew it wasn't going to be easy, not school, not us, not any of it. They're being insufferable. Why can't they accept my choices?"

"Change is never easy. They need time. Why don't you come down to the kitchen for dinner? Mr. Jennings is sick and the cook is out. It will be just us."

She nodded in acceptance as she dried her eyes. "You smell good," she said. "Do you mind if we stay in? I'm tired from it all."

"I don't mind and we have all day tomorrow to do whatever you please."

They had their dinner in the kitchen and then washed the dishes.

"It so normal to be here like this," Sybil said. "Why can't we just be a normal couple instead of all this family nonsense?"

"There is a reason for everything. Sometimes we don't know what it is. Everything works out as it should in the end," said Tom as he hung up the dishcloth.

He went and got a basket of wood for her room before they headed back upstairs. There was no point in building a fire in the library, as it would mean more work for Tom in the morning with no staff about. He had locked the door to his room earlier, so anyone looking for him would think he was asleep.

Once they were back in Sybil's room and the fire was burning well, Tom moved to take her into his arms.

"Oh, no you don't," she said. "You're going to tell me what you've been hiding."

"Alright," he said. His face was suddenly serious. He ran his hand through his hair and went to lean against the mantle and stare down at the fire. "You know how I am always telling you your family needs time to accept your decisions when you don't do what's expected?"

"Yes, you tell me often enough."

"I know its true because I did it myself."

"Tom?" Sybil moved to stand beside him and put a hand on his arm.

"There's a lot of pressure in Irish catholic families to have one of their sons become a priest. Since I was the only son, was good at school and liked to read, my family pushed me to become a priest ever since I was young." He took a deep breath. "I spent six years studying to become a priest before I chucked it all and walked away."

His face was turned away from her and he had his eyes tightly shut, waiting for her reaction. Sybil placed her hand on his cheek and turned his face towards her. She placed a small kiss on his mouth before she spoke.

"I've spent my entire life being trained to be the perfect lady," she said softly. "I think I know a little of how it feels to want more out of life than what your family expects."

Tom put his arms around her and pulled her close. They stood just holding each other for a few minutes.

"Did you really give away the Bishop's fancy dinner?" she asked with a smile.

"Yes, I did. Complete with the serving dishes," he said with a laugh. "I'm afraid I didn't follow the rules very well even then."

"Tell me about school, about all of it," Sybil said as she pulled him over to sit with her on the settee.

The spent the rest of the evening laughing over Tom's stories of scrapes he'd gotten into while attending seminary school and his acts of rebellion over the years he'd spent there. He told her about learning to drive first an ambulance and later the Bishop's car. He also told her about how he got interested in politics at the urging of one of the instructor's at the school.

"All churches are political," he told her. "Don't let anyone ever tell you they aren't. While I believe in some of the churches teachings there are many I don't. In the end I couldn't make the commitment and left. My family didn't take it too well."

"How long did it take them to accept your decision?" Sybil asked.

"Almost two years. My Ma cried when I told her I was coming to work in England, but she finally accepted I would never go back to the church."

"I don't suppose you've told them you're engaged to an English girl?" Sybil said looking into his eyes.

"No, not yet. I thought I would write when we decide to tell your family."

"It's most likely for the best," Sybil had to stifle a yawn. It had been a long day of emotional ups and downs and she was worn out.

"I'll go down now," Tom said as he rose to leave and kissed her goodnight.

"You don't have to."

"Yes, I do," he said. "You need time to take in all that's happened today. We can do whatever you like tomorrow."

He kissed her again before he left.

Sybil took her hair down, changed her cloths and crawled into bed. She lay watching the coals in the grate. She thought how alike Tom and her were. He was right about things happening for a reason. Maybe his experiences were what gave them such a deep connection so quickly. Whatever it was, he was her future. There was no denying it.


	6. Parting

Parting

Sybil and Tom spent the next day wandering the city and doing nothing much in particular. They had their photos taken and purchased stationary for her that was plain and non-descript so as not to raise suspicion when she wrote to him. He addressed the envelopes to himself so her handwriting would not be recognized. There wasn't anything they could do about the postmarks but letters in a masculine hand shouldn't raise suspicion and London was a big city. Sybil had received a call from one of her friends in London that morning. Tom dropped her off at the girl's home and promised to return in two hours to collect her.

He headed off and made some inquiries as to where he could find the county courthouse. He made it there just before closing, made his purchase and headed back. The clerk had assured him the form would remain valid for one year from the date of purchase. When he arrived Sybil was still engaged in conversation with her friend and he was shown into the servants' hall to wait. The servants made a few polite inquiries about what he was doing in London as Lady Sybil's escort. He knew how gossip flew among the houses of the aristocracy and was careful to keep his replies short and to the point.

"She is traveling without a ladies maid?" asked one of the senior housemaids. "No one here goes anywhere overnight without at least two of us in tow."

"She's a nice girl and has her own ideas," he said, giving the maid a stern look of warning. "I just do as I'm told."

"Yes, of course."

The butler came to collect him when Lady Sybil was ready to leave.

"Did you have a nice visit?" Tom inquired.

"Yes, Isadora is doing volunteer work with the Red Cross. She thinks I'm being brave. I wish my own family thought so."

"Well, your fiancé does so that has to count for something," Tom said as they walked down the street.

"More than you know," said Sybil as she put her arm through his and pressed herself a little closer.

They went to the cinema as promised. Sybil was delighted in the experience but there was still part of her that was dreading the final separation tomorrow when she entered the college for the first time. Tom could sense her tension, but kept his mouth closed on the matter. He had done all the reassuring he could. He would just have to get her through the next morning.

That evening at dinner time Mr. Jennings was at the kitchen table and the cook was busy bustling about. When Tom took Sybil her dinner she looked even more distraught than she had earlier. He left her room and went to use the telephone. A few minutes later, he knocked on her door again.

"Your mother's on the telephone. She wants to speak to you," he said.

Sybil dashed from the room and picked up the telephone. Later when he went up to retrieve the dinner tray, Sybil met him with a smile on her face and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Mama said how proud she was of me," she told him. "She was sorry she missed my call yesterday and was very happy I called her tonight."

"There are sometimes when you just need to talk to your mother."

"Can you come back up in a bit?"

"Those two are almost nodding off in their tea," Tom said. "I won't be that long."

Sybil headed into the bathroom and ran herself a bath. She remembered to hang her wrinkled clothes in the room as Tom had said. She had washed her hair was combing it out when Tom returned. He walked over and kissed her on the cheek before he kicked off his shoes and plunked himself on the bed to watch her.

"Happy?" he asked.

"Happy, nervous and excited all at once. Thank you for being here with me. I don't think I could have got through this on my own."

"Yes, you would. You're stronger than you think."

Sybil switched off the light on the vanity and came over to kiss him.

"Am I now," she said as she pushed him down and started tickling him. He grabbed her hands and rolled her over pinning her with her hands above her head. The look on his face changed from one of laughter to passion as he placed his lips on hers. He ever so slowly rolled his mouth over hers, deepening the kiss until they were both breathless. Sybil could feel her hardened nipples rasping against the fabric of her blouse. The unmistakable feel of his erection was pressing into her abdomen. No matter how much her mind told her they should wait, she could deny him nothing. He lifted his head and looked at her questioningly. She nodded her head before he got up, locked the door and put out the lights.

They took their time slowly undressing each other and tasting each area of flesh as it was exposed. His hands tangled in her damp hair as she kissed his neck and ran her fingers along his hairline. She stroked his back and explored the pattern of hair on his chest and abdomen. His exploration of her body was no less sensual as he touched her in ways that sent shivers running down her spine. He placed kisses on her thighs and abdomen slowly working his way back up towards her mouth.

When his fingers began to explore the area between her legs she tensed. He continued to kiss and stroke her until she relaxed and allowed him access. As his fingers gently explored the soft folds she gasped at the new sensations rocking through her. Her desire for him was so strong it was like a taste in her mouth. He took her hand and guided it to his abdomen in invitation. She explored his hardened length tentatively at first then with gaining confidence. He was still kissing her and she thought she would choke on the passion if he didn't move closer soon. Her free hand began pulling him towards her while her body moved towards his of it's own accord.

Ever so slowly he moved until he could enter her. He kept the pace slow. Sbyil was thrashing about attempting to quicken the pace. She felt pure torture in the pleasure of the moment. She thought it would never end. Finally as he kissed her deeply again, her passion broke into a powerful orgasm that had her calling his name. He caught her words in his mouth as the spasms rocked his body as well. They lay together in the aftermath of their love making with her head cradled on his shoulder and her hand tracing small patterns on his chest.

"Where did you learn to do that?" she asked.

"I read a lot."

"Be serious."

"I am. There are books men read. Not anything you would find in a regular bookstore, but they are around. You're the only woman I've ever kissed."

"Really?"

"I spent my entire teenage years locked in a monastery. Where would I have found myself a girl?"

"True. Not even after you left?"

"Never found one that interested me until I met you."

"But you're so…."

"So, what?"

"Handsome and kind."

"I'm glad you think so. The ex-monk bit puts a lot of people off."

"I think its lovely. It makes you who you are."

"You're like salve for my wounds."

"And you for mine."

They drifted off to sleep wrapped in each other's arms. They awoke through the night to make love again. Their minds were clouded by sleep. Their arousal was at its peak by the time they were conscious. Their bodies fit together in perfect harmony. Sybil could feel him inside her. She felt as though he were stroking her from the inside out. She groaned and pushed herself harder onto him raking his back with her nails. She loved the sensations he gave her. He was perfect. They were perfect.

"Tom I love you," she called to him as she found her release. Afterwards they lay on their sides with him curled around her back. Tom leaned on one arm and turned her to look at him.

"Sybil, I bought something today," he began.

"What is it?" she said. She was still awake and thinking about the upcoming day.

"I got a special license. If we need to get married right away, we can be in two weeks. It is good for the next year. You will let me know right away won't you?"

"Yes, don't worry so much. I would tell you right away. Try to go to sleep. We have to be up in two hours."

"I'll miss you," was all he said before he drifted off.

The next morning Tom was up and gone from Sybil's room early. He stripped down the servant's room, showered and changed back into his chauffeur's livery, before he headed back to Sybil's room with fresh linen and towels over his arm.

Once he had knocked at the door and been told to come in, he entered the room to find Sybil just waking up. He closed the door and locked it just to be certain they would not be interrupted.

"Your maid service has arrived," he teased as he sat on the side of the bed to kiss her.

"I should be embarrassed, but I'm not," said Sybil. "My hair is a mess. Its going to take me forever to get the tangles out."

"Come on, get up. You are supposed to check in at the dormitory in two hours and I have to get your room cleaned up. You need to repack. I got a spare case from Mr. Jennings for your books. You can return it later."

Sybil slid out of bed taking one of the sheets with her.

"You don't get to see me walk around naked until after we are married," she said. "I need to save something for later."

"There won't be a later if you don't hurry up."

While Sybil was in the bath, Tom striped and remade the bed. She had left the sheet outside the bathroom door. He collected the sheets and headed back downstairs to drop them in the laundry room. He talked to Mr. Jennings about holding the cash he was carrying for Lady Sybil. He still had well over one hundred and fifty pounds of the money Mr. Carson had sent along. In Tom's opinion it was far too much to keep in a dormitory room. Mr. Jennings wrote out a receipt for the cash and placed the money in the safe.

Tom headed back upstairs to give Sybil the receipt and take up her breakfast. To his surprise Sybil had cleaned the bathroom and replaced the towels. She was dressed and attempting to get a large knot out of her hair.

"It just won't budge," she said in frustration.

"Let me try."

Sybil handed him her brush.

"It's the least you can do since you put it there," she said with a laugh.

Tom gave her the receipt from Mr. Jennings and explained the arrangements he had made for the money.

"If it doesn't suit you, you can make different arrangements later," he said.

"Tom," Sybil said slowly. "Would it offend you if you don't come in with me when we get to the dormitory?"

"Why ever not?"

"I don't want to be that spoiled rich girl," she said with her brow wrinkling. "Not here."

"Just to the door then. I'll kiss you goodbye in public. Everyone will know I'm your beau and not your chauffeur."

"Or my ladies maid," she teased as he got the last of the knot free from her hair.

They got to the college right on time. Tom carried the majority of the bags to the door of the dormitory with Sybil carrying his much smaller one. The books added weight and he was still concerned about her carrying the lot up to her room but he respected her desire for independence. When they got to the door she turned to him.

"It's hard to let you go, my last link with home."

"Not as hard as it is for me. I'll miss you terribly."

"I'll write soon, I promise. Goodbye my love."

He took her hands in his and realized she was wearing her ring. He just pulled her towards him and kissed her. He took his bag and turned to leave as the emotion was choking him. He hadn't been this emotional even when he left Ireland.

"Tom," Sybil said. He turned back and she could see the moisture threatening to fall from the corner of his eyes. "I love you."

In answer he put his arm around her and held her close for another minute. While she put her arms around his neck and held him. He kissed her again quickly and then left. Sybil watched him go and then turned to open the door and move her cases inside. A group of the new trainees was waiting in the foyer to help the new arrivals with their check in and getting their bags to their room.

"Your beau is terribly handsome," one of the girls said.

"What kind of uniform was that?" another inquired.

"He's a chauffeur for a wealthy family," Sybil said.

"You had better be careful or one of those rich girls will be making eyes at him," the first one teased.

"One already has," Sybil said with a smile as she headed in to get started on her new career.


	7. Letters

Letters

Tom had been thoroughly grilled by Lord and Lady Grantham and Mr. Carson on Lady Sybil's interview and time in London and given his assurance that her time was largely taken up with preparations for entering college. He had also let Lord Grantham know about the arrangements he had made with Lady Rosamund's butler regarding Sybil's spending money if he should wish to make other arrangements. The first pack of letters to Sybil's mother, sisters and one of the house maid's arrived a week after he returned to Downton. There was a great buzz of gossip among the staff as her handwriting had been recognized immediately.

His own letter arrived three days later without a twitch of an eyebrow.

_December 1, 1914_

_My Dearest Tom:_

_Take heart my love. It is my pleasure to inform you, you will not be becoming a father in the near future. I miss you terribly and am so happy you were able to accompany me to London. _

_The days here are long. We have class six hours every morning and then five hours of practical work in the afternoon. The evenings are spent studying or making preparations for the following day. I am keeping up well in my studies although the other girls stared at me the first few days when I did not know how to fold a sheet._

_I saw Sister Mary Glenn today. Although I do not work with patients yet, there are some German fliers in the hospital who were shot down. They needed someone who spoke German to try and calm one of them. They warned me before I went in to remain calm and professional. It was truly horrible. He was screaming and fighting while they were trying to change his bandages. He did calm down once he heard my voice. It was all I could do not to run out in the corridor and be sick. Afterwards Sister Mary Glenn said I had done marvelously well for an untrained nurse. I am supposed to go back later tonight to assist again and I will write letters for them. They are both so badly injured they can't do it themselves. I wouldn't want my father to know there are prisoners here or he would want me out of here right away. The incendiary raids are horrible but at the same time when I saw the carnage in that room, I wondered what is it all for._

_I won't be coming home for Christmas this year. I haven't written to my family yet. We will not be allowed a break until the end of January for three days when I will visit Downton. We do get half days here and there but so far I have only had one. _

_I love and miss you._

_Sybil_

Tom leaned his head back against the wall in the servant's courtyard and sighed with relief when he read Sybil's letter. He missed her of course, but was heartened to hear she was making her own way without her family's interference. A few days before Mr. Carson had announced at the dinner table that he had heard from Mr. Jennings and Tom was to be commended on his attentive care to Lady Sybil's needs while he was in London.

"Mr. Jennings said you were of great help around the house," Mr. Carson said.

It was all Tom could do to say, "Thank you Mr. Carson," as he had almost choked on his dinner at the mention of the trip. Carson would loose what little hair he had left if he knew just how attentive to Lady Sybil's needs he had been.

A few days before Christmas a small package arrived at Downton addressed to Mr. Branson in a strange female's handwriting. Few Christmas parcels arrived in the servant's hall and it was the custom to open parcels with the rest of the staff to allow them to share in the fun. Tom was trying to stay calm, as he was not sure if Sybil was aware of the custom and had no idea what would be inside the parcel. Daisy was beside herself in anticipation waiting for him to come in for tea. She had picked the parcel up and set it down multiple times since its arrival that afternoon.

"There's a parcel here for you, Mr. Branson," she told him. "With a postmark from London."

Tom slowly untied the string and removed the brown paper wrapping. Sybil had included an envelop with Happy Christmas written on it on top of a small gift wrapped package. Tom slipped the envelop inside his vest.

"Who's it from?" Daisy asked.

"You must have found a sweetheart when you were last in London," Miss O'Brien said in her deadpan tone.

"I had a little time on my hands," he said blushing to the roots of his hair.

"Is she pretty?" Daisy asked.

"Very." He pushed the parcel over to Daisy. "You do the honors."

"Oh, I couldn't," she said.

"Yes, you can. Go ahead and open it."

"Alright," she said as she reached for the bright paper. She opened the gift to reveal a light grey man's scarf. "Its ever so soft," she said.

"Silk and cashmere," said O'Brien. "Whoever she is, she has expensive taste."

"It's a very fine gift," volunteered Anna.

Just then Carson came in and informed him the Dowager Countess needed to be picked up. Tom took the scarf and laid it around his neck before he donned his uniform jacket and made a hasty retreat. When he was alone he opened the envelope and read her letter.

_December 20, 1914_

_My Darling Tom:_

_Thank you so much for the sewing kit. It is very beautiful and very thoughtful of you. I had never sewed a button back on before this week, and I used the sewing kit as soon as I opened it. It seems my list of skills to learn is endless. I wish I was there with you for the holidays, but that is not to be this year. _

_Some of the students are getting up a Christmas party and we will sing carols and have games in our dining hall on Christmas evening for those who are not on duty. Everyone who is here must help in the wards either in the morning or afternoon. I am working in the children's ward at the moment although I am still called quite often to help with the German patients. I guess there was a reason behind the German governess after all. _

_I hope you like the gift, my love. I can hear you now scolding me about overspending but I wanted you to have something fine. Some of the other girls saw your picture when I had it out the other day. They have all commented on what a fine beau I have. I couldn't agree with them more. I love and miss you. I think of you often._

_Sybil_

_PS: I am looking forward to my trip home in January._

* * *

The preparations for Sybil's arrival for a two-night stay in January created a scene of chaos downstairs at the Abbey. Her mother had ordered all Sybil's favorite foods and the household was to turn out to welcome her home. Tom was thankful that he was to go to the station alone to retrieve her, as he doubted they would have even five minutes alone for the rest of her stay.

Tom stood on the platform nervously anticipating her arrival. He smiled when he saw her and walked forward to take her in his arms, when Sybil put a hand on his chest to stop him. She slid her hand down and quickly tucked a note into his hand. Lady Rosamund was just alighting from the train behind Sybil. Sybil handed him her bag and turned to help her Aunt down from the last coach.

"My Aunt has decided to accompany me on this visit," Sybil said to him. "Please see to her things."

"As you wish, Lady Sybil," he said and headed off to retrieve the rest of the luggage.

Once he was alone, he pulled the note out of his glove where he had hidden it.

_I will come when I can. Love Sybil._

Lady Rosamund and the Dowager Countess kept him busier than ever over the next two days. Even if Sybil had managed to get away for a few minutes he was always on the road. Her mother threw parties both nights that lasted well into the early hours of the morning. They had no chance to speak even for a few minutes. Early on the last day of Sybil's visit she came to the garage carrying her suitcase. He turned when he heard someone behind him and she dashed across the garage straight into his arms.

"I'm going back early," she said. "I'm so tired and they want to keep having friends over. I can't even get away for a minute."

He checked his watch and noted they would have fifteen minutes before they would have to leave for the early train. He didn't say a word, just held her and rocked her back and forth trying to absorb as much feeling as they could in the few minutes they had.

"My next break will you try to come to London?" she asked.

"I will if I can manage it," he said. "I miss you."

"I miss you too."

They just made the train. Tom kissed her on the platform before she stepped on to the train and reaffirmed his promise to try to join her in London on her next term break. They had ten more months and her training would be done.

On Sybil's next break Tom had not been able to get the time off and in the summer her family had decided to open the London house effectively thwarting their plans to get together. That fall Sybil had a final break in late October before her three weeks of final examinations began. Tom had been doing extra work on the estate and was granted time off as a bonus. They took the train to a small village and stayed at an Inn by the shore. Sybil was so exhausted she slept almost the entire first day.

They were sitting outside on a small bench drinking mugs of tea. Sybil had her arm around his and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"I'll be glad when I'm finished with school," she said.

"You're almost there. Lots of others didn't stick it out. Take pride in it."

"The class is down almost by half from when we started," Sybil said. "It hasn't been easy, but I'm happy I did it. From the articles you've been sending me, it looks like your writing is going well."

"It doesn't pay much yet, but I am building enough of a reputation that I am getting requests for articles. There is work out there if you look for it. Of course I can only do it in my spare time."

"Tom, do you still have the marriage license you bought?"

"It's in my billfold. Why?"

"Conscription is coming. Married men are exempt. Since we're going to tell my family in a month anyway I thought we could get married now. They won't be able to argue."

"Sybil, I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"If we delay it will be endless parties, excuses for me not to nurse and more of the same we've been putting up with for almost the last year. I'm serious Tom. I think we should get married now. I've been thinking about it for a while now. You should see the pile of cash I've got put away. My father keeps sending an allowance every month. I have over six hundred pounds. That should be enough for us to get a start somewhere."

"Alright," he said after a few minutes. "I've got enough that together we'll have well over a thousand pounds. I don't see any reason to delay. Let's phone the courthouse and see if we can book an appointment tomorrow."

"I even packed a dress for the occasion," she laughed.

"Sybil Crawley, you realize I am marrying you for your money," he teased.

"And I thought it was for my hidden charms," she said. "I'm certainly marrying you for yours."

They headed off to make their phone calls and spend the rest of the afternoon and evening exploring each others hidden attractions.


	8. Coming Home

Coming Home

The next morning they were married in a civil ceremony. They were so clearly in love the clerk and secretary who were called as witness felt tears come to their eyes despite the hundreds of weddings they had witnessed in the past. Sybil wore a white dress she had purchased for the occasion and carried a bundle of flowers they had acquired from a flower shop on their way to the courthouse. They had located a small jewelry shop and bought plain gold rings for the ceremony. Sybil's hand shook when she placed the ring on his finger but her voice was clear and true as she repeated the vows. After the ceremony they found a small inn near the train station where they could be alone.

"How do you feel Mr. Branson?" she asked.

"Happy," he said. "How about you Mrs. Branson?"

"Overjoyed. I want to tell everyone I meet that I just married the man I love."

"Another three weeks and you can tell anyone you please."

While they were talking Tom had moved closer to her and taken the flowers from her hands. He reached up and began unpinning her hair. It fell down her back in thick waves of sable. Her fingers reached up and loosened his tie and opened the buttons of his waistcoat and shirt.

"There are nursing shortages everywhere now. The bulletin boards at the school are covered with openings. You decide where you want to look for a job. I'll leave it up to you where we go. I don't care as long as I'm with you."

"I'll start making inquiries when I get back. I wasn't expecting to get married today. You can be quite persuasive Mrs. Branson."

"Yes, I tend to get my way most of the time."

"And what do you want today?" he inquired with his mouth just inches from hers.

"You. Only you," she said before his lips touched hers.

* * *

In weeks the during Sybil's final examinations she received only one letter from Tom shortly after their marriage. He normally wrote her at least once a week. She had not heard from him and was getting more and more concerned by the time she boarded the train to head back to Downton. As she stepped off the train, Edith was waiting on the platform to greet her.

"Where's Branson?" Sybil asked as soon as she saw her sister.

"We didn't want to tell you while you were at school," said Edith. "He collapsed two weeks ago. He's in the hospital with pneumonia."

All of the color drained from Sybil's face.

"Take me straight there."

"But everyone's waiting at the house for you," said Edith. "You can go down and check on him later."

"Now, Edith. I mean it," said Sybil.

Edith was unused to this side of Sybil. She was not the same young girl that had left Downton a year ago. This girl was one who took charge, knew exactly what she wanted and would take no argument in getting it. They arrived at the village hospital shortly. Sybil was out of the car as soon as Edith pulled to a stop.

The hospital was crowded with wounded from the war. There were so many they lay on cots in the hallways and some on stretchers. The beds in the ward had been moved together so close there was barely room to walk in between.

"Where is Tom Branson?" Sybil asked one of the auxiliary nurses.

"I don't know who that is," she said. "There's a roster on the wall over there."

Just then Isobel Crawley came into view.

"Cousin Isobel," Sybil called.

Isobel approached her.

"I'm glad your back, Sybil, we are so overwhelmed we need all the help we can get."

"Where is Branson?" Sybil asked. Her eyes were darting around the ward looking for him but so far she had not spotted him in the sea of injured men.

"He's at the far end in isolation," Isobel said starting to lead the way. "It's been a bad case from the start. His heart isn't strong."

They reached the portable curtains. When Sybil stepped around them only her professional training stopped her from gasping. Tom lay on the cot with a week's worth of beard on his face. His lips were cracked and peeling and sweat beaded on his forehead. His eyes were closed and his breathing was ragged and gasping.

Sybil removed her hat and coat and placed them over the foot of the bed and then removed her gloves and put them in her handbag. She was so upset she forgot she was wearing her engagement and wedding band under her gloves.

"Edith, find me a basin of water and a cloth she said. Ask for a jar of lanolin as well."

"Sybil, I really don't think we should be here," said Edith.

"Edith, just do it," said Sybil. "Then you can help me."

"He had on a wedding ring when they brought him in," said Isobel. "No one knew anything about a wife. We opened a letter that arrived for him from London. His wife was asking why he hadn't written, but it was only signed your loving wife. We have no idea how to contact her."

Sybil had leaned over Tom and was stroking the back of her fingers on the side of his face.

"Tom," she called softly. "Tom."

He opened his eyes and tried to speak but nothing came out between his parched lips. Sybil spotted two pillows on a chair against the wall. She lifted Tom by the shoulders and placed the pillows behind him. Then she held a glass of water to his lips and began giving him small sips. At first he choked, but was soon able move his lips enough to speak.

"Sybil, I thought you would never come," he whispered. His eyes were glassy from the fever and he started coughing heavily. It was then Isobel noticed the rings on Sybil's left hand.

"Sybil?"

Edith had returned with the items Sybil asked for. Sybil rubbed the lanolin on Tom's lips, not looking up from her husband.

"How long ago did you get married?" Isobel asked with concern.

Edith gasped and her hand flew to her mouth.

"We've been married about a month now. We were going to tell the family when I got home."

"What will Papa say," Edith said.

"It doesn't matter what he will say right now," said Sybil. "Help me get him cleaned up. Then we're taking him home."

"But Sybil, you can't," said Edith.

"He's my husband and I will care for him myself," said Sybil. "I've treated hundreds of patients with pneumonia in the last few months. It's running rampant at the front and there has been an outbreak in London. I know exactly what to do."

She didn't add that a third of the people admitted to the training hospital with pneumonia had died. For now she would do everything in her power to care for her husband and that included fighting with her family if she had to.

"I suggest you take your rings off before you get home," Isobel said. "Then you can deal with your father when Branson is better. I'll call to let them know you will be coming."

"Please tell them to ready a bedroom for him," said Sybil. "One with it's own bathroom. Where are his things?"

Sybil and Edith got Tom ready to be moved to Downton. Sybil shaved away his beard and washed the sweat from his body. She gave Edith instructions on how to help her, although Edith tactfully left the enclosure as Sybil dealt with the more personal areas. Tom was too weak to be of any help and kept drifting in and out of consciousness. Once they had Tom dressed and Sybil had collected the supplies she would need, they put him in a wheelchair and got him into the car with the assistance of an orderly.

Sybil sat with her arms wrapped around Tom supporting his body while Edith drove the short distance to the house.

"What are you going to tell the family?" Edith asked.

"That I'm a nurse and I know how to take care of him," said Sybil. "Besides they need the space at the hospital." Sybil paused for a minute. "You won't tell them we're married will you?"

"No, I'll let you two tell Papa on your own terms. The chauffeur Sybil, why did you marry the chauffeur of all men?"

"Why do you think?" said Sybil in exasperation.

"Your not pregnant are you?"

"No," said Sybil. "At least I don't think I am. Try to accept this Edith. I need someone on my side."

"Does Mary know?"

"No, we haven't told anyone. He's a good person, Edith and your brother-in-law."

They pulled up to the doors of Downton Abbey. The staff was out to greet them. William approached to hold the door open for Sybil and help her down.

"Help me with him," Sybil said to William.

The two of them emerged from the car with Tom between them. Sybil had her arms around his waist and was taking a portion of his weight while William had Tom's arm around his shoulder. Tom's head was down and he was staggering as he tried to move.

"Good God," said Sybil's father. "Sybil what is the meaning of this?"

"They need the space at the hospital. I know exactly what to do. I can take better care of him here."

"Are you aware he's a married man?" her father challenged.

"Yes, I'm well aware of it," Sybil said, glaring back at her father.

"They've readied the Imperial bedroom," said Lady Cora in an attempt to appease the tension between her husband and daughter.

Lord Grantham just rolled his eyes heavenward and headed back into the house.

Between Sybil, William, Edith and two of the housemaids they finally got Tom up the stairs and into the bedroom. Sybil asked one of the maids to fetch her stethoscope from her case as she set about getting Tom undressed and into the bed. William stood at the door in a state of shock.

"William, please go down to the car and retrieve a box of medical supplies I brought from the hospital," said Sybil. "I will need a constant supply of hot water over the next few days. Please see to it."

"Yes, milady," he replied before almost bolting out the door.

"Isn't this contagious?" Edith asked.

"Not at this stage," said Sybil. "He would have been right before he collapsed. Has anyone else come down with it?"

"No, not that I know of."

"Well, at least that's something."

"Sybil, I envy you your courage," Edith said slowly. "I wish I had it."

"You do have it," said Sybil. "Tom is always telling me I'm stronger than I know."

Tom had passed out from the exertion of getting up the stairs and into bed. Sybil leaned down and kissed his forehead.

"You really love him don't you?"

"I do."

* * *

The next week passed in a blur for Sybil. She hardly left Tom's side except to eat and catch a few hours sleep here and there. She created a regimen of mustard plasters, steam and massage to loosen the hardened mucus and water in his lungs and applied every technique she could think of to bring his fever down. At the end of a week his fever finally broke and he began to breathe easier.

Sybil's mother and sisters had been by to check on her and the patient's progress regularly but Sybil had barely seen her father. She knew he was feeling a loss of control and Sybil did not know how to reassure him. Once Sybil felt comfortable leaving Tom alone for a few hours she went in search of her father. She found him sitting in the library going over some papers.

"Papa," she said. "I want to thank you for allowing me to attend college in London this last year."

"You didn't give me much choice," he said looking up from his papers. "But I am proud of you."

Sybil ran across the room to hug her father.

"I love you, Papa."

He patted her shoulders.

"How's Branson?"

"The fever has broken. He will get better but it will take a long time."

"It's the strangest thing. He's wearing a ring and apparently has a wife but no one knows anything about her."

"Perhaps they wanted to tell people in their own time."

"Perhaps. Maybe now he will be able to tell us something about her."

"I'm sure he loves her very much."

"How would you know?"

Sybil just shrugged and walked over to the book ledger. There in neat rows were her and Tom's name one after the other as they had read books and discussed them. It seemed like so long ago, but the garden party when they had first held hands was only last year.

"I best go back up," she said.

Lord Grantham watched her walk away and then went to look at the ledger to see what she had been looking at. When he looked at the names in the book, his head snapped up and his eyes narrowed. He turned abruptly and left the library to find his wife and discuss the possibility of his youngest daughter nursing not an employee but her sick husband.

"Bloody Branson," he muttered under his breath.


	9. Confrontations

Confrontations

It was another week before Tom was well enough for Sybil to allow him to sit up in a chair by the window. He was so weak from the three weeks of severe illness, his first time up lasted less than ten minutes. It was the first time in his life that he was thankful for the privileges of wealth when he only had to walk a few feet to the bathroom and back. The slightest cold draft could send him into a fit of coughing that left him weak and gasping for breath for the next half hour. Christmas 1915 was fast approaching and Tom was fretting over telling Sybil's family that they were married.

"We need to tell them soon," he said while sitting in a chair by the window. "We have to make some plans."

"You're not well enough yet," said Sybil. "It will be another two weeks at least before you're able to get around and even then you're going to have to rest and be careful not to get a chill."

"We can't live in a lie," Tom said. "I've been evading questions about my wife for the last few days. Your mother asked me outright if my wife was still in London. I said she was finished her business there and was with her family. I think they suspect us."

"Edith and Cousin Isobel know, but I haven't told anyone else," Sybil said with a sigh. "I just wish you were stronger."

"Have you gone through my mail? I made a few inquiries before I got sick. I wonder if there were any replies. I'm not in exactly the best shape to run downstairs and get it."

"I'll go in a bit," said Sybil. She walked over and sat on the carpet beside him. She laid her cheek against his leg and laced her fingers through his. "Do you really think it's time?"

"The longer we wait the worse it will be," he said.

Tom started to cough and Sybil got up to get him a cloth handkerchief. She went to the washroom when the coughing subsided to get a cold face cloth to wipe the sweat from his face. She sat down on the window seat beside him, unclasped the chain from around her neck and slid on her rings.

"Fine, I'll tell them today," Sybil said.

"No, we'll tell them together," said Tom. "I won't have you doing it alone. I'm not hiding behind your skirts."

"Tom, you're not well!"

"Sybil, stop treating me like a child," he said getting annoyed. "We've always known this wouldn't be easy."

Her annoyance and worry over him suddenly dissipated. "Now you sound more like you." She smiled for the first time in weeks. She reached her hand out to take his. He pulled her down to sit in his lap. She kissed him on the mouth. Then hopped up.

"I'm going for your mail. When I get back we'll get you dressed then tell my parents."

"I'm going back to bed first," he said with a sigh. "Your heavier than I remember."

In the post was a letter from Tom's mother asking about who his wife was and why he hadn't written to tell her. She had received an inquiry from Lord Grantham asking if she knew how to contact his wife when he had first taken ill.

"That's another one we need to deal with," said Sybil. "I think we should write to her as soon as possible."

"I was avoiding writing to my Ma. I don't expect the best reaction from her."

"She's your mother and she loves you. Getting married isn't the worst thing in the world."

"No, but quitting the seminary is in hers," he sighed. "Once she knows you, she'll understand why I love you so much." "At least I hope she does," he thought to himself.

There was in fact a job offer from a small paper in York. The wages were a little more than Tom made working for Lord Grantham, but didn't come with the perks he enjoyed at his current post.

"It will be enough to live on if we really watch what we spend," he said. "Once I'm well enough I can get extra work. Are you alright with living so close?"

"I know you would like to go back to Ireland, but I don't think we should attempt the trip till at least next fall. There is no sense in over doing it and having a set back. York will be fine for now. I don't expect anything lavish."

"We have the money we put in the bank," he said. "I've got the passbooks hidden. We have more than enough to live on for two years without work. It will be easier if I have a job right away."

Sybil nodded and left Tom alone so he would rest. She made a trip out to the chauffeur's cottage and brought back his dark suit, notebook and typewriter. No one had noticed her rings yet, but she had a feeling it wouldn't be too long.

That evening Tom got up and dressed in the suit Sybil had fetched. He had to sit down twice while getting dressed to catch his breath and Sybil had to help him with his tie, but he was finally ready to face her family. They made their way slowly down the stairs to the library where her family would be gathering before their evening meal.

"Remember you are my husband and have as much right to be in this house as anyone," Sybil said.

"Until your father chucks me out on my ear," he said with a rueful smile. "Don't worry love, getting married isn't the worst thing in the world." He shot back her words from earlier in the day.

"Unfortunately, in my family not marrying the "right" man is," she said.

They entered the library and found a seat near the windows so they were out of the main line of vision of anyone passing by. Tom was exhausted from the trip down the stairs and was sweating profusely from the exertion. He wiped his face with his handkerchief and his hair stuck out at an odd angle. Sybil went to him and smoothed his hair and bent to place a kiss on his lips.

"I promised you my heart," she said. "I will fight my family for you. Don't worry."

"I can't help worrying when it comes to you. I still think I will wake one morning and you will be gone."

"Wild horses, my darling, couldn't keep me away."

She moved to stand behind him with one hand resting on his shoulder. He took her hand and pressed a kiss to her wrist when Mary walked in.

"What are you doing here?" Mary asked directing her question to Tom. "And what are you doing with my sister?"

"We're waiting for Mama and Papa," Sybil said.

"Sybil, he's a married man."

"I know that," Sybil said.

Mary's eyes narrowed as she regarded her sister. Sybil's chin was up and she had pure defiance in her eyes.

"Your ideals are entirely too modern," Mary scoffed not wanting her sister to get the last word.

"Your sister's are ideals are perfectly respectable," Tom said. He had a look of stubborn determination about him the same as Sybil's even though he was in no shape to face Mary or anyone else standing up.

Edith came into the library. Seeing Sybil and Tom there together she cringed slightly.

"So, you've told Mary then," she asked.

"No, we're waiting for Mama and Papa," said Sybil.

"Told me what?"

"Oh Mary," Edith said in exasperation. "Open your eyes."

It was then Mary realized Sybil was wearing her rings on her left hand.

"Good God," she exclaimed. "Sybil have you lost your mind!"

"Pipe down, Mary," Sybil said. "Or you'll have the servants listening at the doors and no I haven't lost my mind."

Mary sat down on one of the red sofas in the room and looked at the floor.

"When?" she asked.

"We were married October 27," Sybil said. "Almost two months ago. We were going to tell everyone when I got home, but you know how that has gone."

"I hate to think of Papa's reaction," said Mary. "Think of the scandal."

"Its no worse than anything you've done," Edith couldn't resist the jibe.

Tom and Sybil looked at each other questioningly. They had no idea to what Edith was referring.

"Leave my troubles out of this," hissed Mary.

"Why?" said Edith. "Sybil should be free to choose her own life. Neither of us stands to inherit anything." Edith sat down on her chair with an unladylike plop.

Silence rained in the library until Sybil's parents arrived. At first they didn't see Sybil and Tom off to the side, until Tom rose to stand beside Sybil. Right then Mr. Carson came through to announce dinner was ready to be served.

"Carson, be a good man and close the doors to the library," Lord Grantham said.

"As you wish, my lord."

Carson moved to do as he was told then stood by the doors waiting for further instructions.

"Sybil do you have something to tell us?" her mother inquired.

"Mama, Papa," the nervousness was making her voice quaver. "Tom and I…. are married."

"And your just telling us now!" her father bellowed. "How long has this been going on?"

"Don't yell at my wife," Tom shot back as loud as his weakened condition would allow.

"Don't you tell me what to do in my own home! I should have thrown you out long ago," Lord Grantham raged at Tom.

"Really Robert, this is getting us nowhere," said Lady Cora. "Sybil when did this all come about?"

"Thank you, Mama. We were married in October in London." Sybil looked at Tom with a smile. "We were going to tell you when I got home, but Tom was much too ill." He looked back into her eyes and they shared a quick look of reassurance before they both turned their attention back to her parents.

"And before that?" her mother asked. "Your not pregnant are you?"

"No Mama, I'm not pregnant," she said. "We were engaged before I left for college. We wanted to wait until I was done my course before we got married, but it just seemed like the right time."

Lord Grantham had been pacing about the library.

"All that time you were running around, seducing my daughter and ruining her reputation behind my back!" he yelled at Tom.

"I didn't seduce her," he yelled back equally angry. "I haven't seduced anyone. Give your daughter some credit. Her reputation isn't ruined. We're married. That's it!"

Tom's face had gone white at his outburst and Sybil put her arm around him to steady him.

"In every sense of the word?" her father inquired.

"Yes, Papa. In every sense of the word, I am his wife."

"This is preposterous," Lord Grantham said.

Carson had been standing at the back of the room and looked as if his eyes were going to bug out of his head and his starched collar would blow off his neck at any second. Tom staggered and Sybil helped him to sit down again but never left his side. Lord Grantham thought things over for a second before he threatened.

"You'll get no money from me!"

"I don't want any money. I just want you to accept my decisions," said Sybil. "I can see this is getting us no where. I hope you will allow us to stay until after Christmas. Tom has found a post in York. We will move there as soon as he is well enough to travel."

Lord Grantham opened his mouth to argue the point, when Lady Cora intervened.

"Robert!" she said. "We can discuss this in the morning. Right now Sybil needs to get her husband back to bed."

Tom was looking more ashen by the second and fighting the urge to cough. Lady Cora signaled Carson to open the doors. The women headed through to the dining room with Lord Grantham following and giving his daughter and son-in-law a parting glare.

"That went as well as could be expected," Tom tried to joke, before almost passing out in the chair.

Sybil went to her father's drink tray and poured him a glass of water. She crossed back to her husband and sat down after handing it to him.

"He was insufferable," Sybil said with a tear trickling down her cheek.

"Give him time, love."

Tom had finished his glass of water and pushed himself back to a standing position.

"Now you better help me with those stairs. Unless you want me to fall down and become a widow at nineteen."

"My father would be overjoyed," Sybil joked back with her scowl starting to lift.

With that they headed back upstairs before another coughing spasm changed their minds for them.


	10. The Morning After

The Morning After

Mr. Carson was particularly morose this morning, or so Mrs. Hughes thought. After the servants breakfast he asked Mrs. Hughes to come into his office.

"I was party to some disturbing news yesterday evening. Now you know I don't like to carry gossip about the family," he said. "But I thought you should hear it from me first."

"Whatever is wrong?" said Mrs. Hughes.

"Lady Sybil announced last night that she and Mr. Branson are married."

Mrs. Hughes thought the information over for a minute.

"It doesn't surprise me one bit. The way that boy was mooning over her. It was as plain as the nose on your face."

"You never mentioned it."

"I thought it was just a passing fancy. I never noticed anything disrespectful between them. Are you going to tell the staff?"

"I was going to wait for direction from his Lordship."

"Yes, that's probably best," said Mrs. Hughes. "Young people in love can be so foolish, although he is a nice young man."

"Who doesn't know his place!"

"Try to be kind, Mr. Carson. He's been terribly ill and will have a long recovery. I think I'll go up and have a word with her Ladyship."

Mrs. Hughes got up to leave.

"I don't like this one bit."

"Its not up to us now is it?"

* * *

Sybil was bracing herself for the aftermath of telling her family they were married. She had known she may be disowned but the reality of her father's reaction coupled with her husband's illness was much harder to deal with than she had first imagined. It was no romantic fantasy where they could live and love in perfect harmony. It was real. Her marriage was real and she would have to deal with the consequences.

Sybil's mother was the first to approach her. Lady Cora found Sybil in her bedroom. Sybil was not staying with Tom as he was still much too sick and needed every minute of rest he could get.

"Sybil, dear come and talk to me," her mother said.

"Oh Mama," Sybil said going to her mother and wrapping her arms around her like a little girl. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner. I didn't know how."

"Your father suspected something like this the other day. I don't think you've made the best decision in all this, but its made and now we have to live with it."

"It is the best decision for me."

"You've worked so hard at school, I just don't want to see you throw it all away."

"I'm not throwing it all away," Sybil said. "I don't need all the servants and a big house to be happy. I'm happy when I'm with Tom."

"You're so young and idealistic. Your father doesn't want to see you hurt when it all fades."

"Will Papa ever accept us?" Sybil asked.

"In time. Right now he is hurt and angry. I don't like to think of what your Grandmother will say."

"She'll probably be convinced were being invaded by Irish rebels," Sybil said with a nervous laugh.

"How is Tom this morning?"

"Still sleeping. He was done in last night. Right now he needs sleep and rest. He was the one who insisted on telling you. He is a good person Mama, you have to get to know him."

"You've always been my child who was full of surprises. I've always known what to expect from the other two. Have you thought about how to tell the servants?"

"No, and I don't want Tom trying to go down. He could have a set back at any moment. He's still not out of danger."

"I think you and I should do it together," her mother said. "But I'm not going to interfere with your father. You will have to deal with him yourself."

Sybil hugged her mother again before she left to go and check on Tom and try to get him to eat something if he was awake. Tom had woken a short while earlier and was busy typing out a letter in reply to the job offer.

"Tom, you're over doing it. You're going to have a set back."

"I just want to send the reply as soon as I can," he said before he started coughing.

"Did you eat anything yet?"

"No, not yet. Just let me finish this, then I promise I'll behave."

It wasn't long before Tom rolled the sheet of paper out of the machine, signed it and put it in an envelope. He went to the small table where his breakfast was waiting and took some toast before he sat down with a cup of tea.

"You need to eat the porridge," Sybil scolded. "Toast will not help you build your strength."

"I don't like porridge," he said with a pout. He was getting a little stir crazy locked up in this room and the tension from yesterday had gotten to him.

"Stop behaving like a spoiled child," Sybil said. "I talked to my mother. She is just worried that we've made a mistake and we're going to regret it. She is going to help me tell the staff."

Tom opened his mouth to protest, then thought better of it.

"Well, at least that's something. You don't regret marrying me already do you?"

"No, why would I?"

"So far all you've done is wipe my brow, while I lay in bed. I'm not the most stellar husband."

"You're my husband. The only one I've got and you will get well. It's going to take time."

"Time we don't have."

"There's nothing you can do about that. Now eat your breakfast and go back to bed."

"Yes, Mrs. Branson."

"You know I like the sound of that," said Sybil with a smile.

Once Sybil had Tom settled again she went in search of her mother to find out what she had in mind for telling the servants. While they were talking her father entered the room.

"I didn't expect to find you here," he said.

"Where else would I be," said Sybil. "I'm not sneaking around despite what you may think."

"I've thought this over and since you haven't told anyone else yet, we could easily have your marriage annulled and no one would be the wiser."

Lady Cora gasped.

"No, Papa. I will not give him up. Not now, not ever. How could you even suggest such a thing?"

"Your place in society is finished with him. You won't be received. Sybil I want what's best for you."

"No Papa, you want what's best for you! He is what's best for me."

"Your young and foolish. How can you possibly know?"

"You said the same thing about my nursing. You didn't encourage me at all. Tom was one of the few people who thought I could do it."

"Bloody Branson again. I should have thrown him out when you got into all that political nonsense."

"Papa!" Sbyil was angry now and stamped her foot. "He is my husband. Don't speak of him in that way."

"Robert, please. This isn't helping. Tom is too ill to leave. Can't we at least give them some time to make their plans and let him recover?"

"Alright," Lord Grantham's anger suddenly dissipated. "You have until the end of January. Then he goes."

"I'll go with him," said Sybil. "My place is with him now."

Her father only nodded his head before he left the room.

* * *

After luncheon was over Lady Cora had the household staff assemble in the main hall. There were looks of shock all around the room as Sybil made her announcement.

"Mr. Branson is my son-in-law," Lady Cora said. "You will accord him the respect he deserves as part of this family."

"Of course, we will my Lady," Mrs. Hughes said. "Lady Sybil on behalf of the staff, may I offer congratulations on your marriage?"

"Thank you, Mrs. Hughes," Sybil said with a smile. She had never been congratulated before. It sometimes felt as though she and Tom were the only two people on earth who were happy about their union.

That afternoon Sybil walked into the village with the letter for the paper in York and one to Tom's mother. He was fine on his own and was spending long periods of time asleep. Sybil had made arrangements for one of the maids to look in on him but had not told her husband as he would definitely have something to say about being waited on and the inequality of the classes. He was getting better, albeit very slowly. After the post office, Sybil stopped by the hospital to talk to Cousin Isobel. The hospital was packed with patients and Isobel entreated Sybil to come and work at the hospital even if only for a few hours a day.

"We could really use the help," Isobel said. "You have the latest training which could prove beneficial for so many of the patients here. I hope you will consider it."

"I'll let you know later today," said Sybil. Her fingers were itching to update some of the treatments she had seen as she walked around the hospital with Isobel. There was a lot she could do even if they were in Downton for only another month and a half.

When Sybil got back to the house she found Tom sitting up in bed talking to Anna.

"Lady Sybil, I must say you're very brave," Anna said. "Congratulations on your marriage."

"Thank you, Anna," she said while walking over to take Tom's hand. "I'm glad to know someone is keeping an eye on him when I'm not here."

"I'm not going to break Sybil," he said.

"Someone has to make sure you don't go running off and do something pig headed," Sybil teased him.

Anna was distinctly uncomfortable at seeing them so familiar together. She hid her discomfort well and made her excuses to return to work.

Sybil told Tom about her visit to the local hospital and Isobel's request for her to come to work there.

"I don't see why you can't," said Tom. "Really all I need is rest. I can see to myself well enough."

"Papa said we can stay till the end of January," she said. "You should be much stronger by then."

"I don't like to be beholden to your father, but I don't see that I have much choice at the moment."

"No you don't. I'm going to have your things moved from the cottage to here," said Sybil. "It will let people know we're really married and that you belong here."

"Sybil," he said with irritation. "I don't like people going through my things."

"I'll get your personal papers myself," she said. "Where did you put our marriage license? I assume you hid that along with our passbooks."

"I put them along with your letters in the most obvious place where no one would ever look," he said with a small laugh. "There in a box under the driver's seat of the Renault. The car is so difficult to drive, no one around here ever goes near it except me."

"Hidden in plain sight the same as us," Sybil said. She moved closer so she could kiss him properly. His arms went around her and pulled her close. "I do love you," she said.

"And I you, how much longer do you think before…?"

"Christmas, we'll plan on it for Christmas. But you'll have to take it slow."

"Is there any better way?" he said with a mischievous smile.

Sybil blushed profusely.

"I don't know. I guess we'll just have to keep trying until we figure it out," she said before she kissed him again.


	11. On His Own

On His Own

Lord Grantham stood by the window in the Imperial Bedroom of Downton Abbey two days before Christmas 1915 watching his son-in-law sleep. The younger man's blonde hair fell away from his face in a messy pile and predominant black circles colored the bottoms of his eyes. His face had taken on a hollow look and his once robust physique was a good twenty pounds lighter. "He looks like a naughty child that has been sent to bed without his supper," Lord Grantham thought. "He's so young. They're both so damn young." He glanced out the window at the grey clouds that were about to let go another rainstorm at any moment. When he turned back he saw his son-in-law's eyes were open and watching him.

Tom Branson woke when he sensed someone was in the room. He was not a heavy or a late sleeper but his recent bought of pneumonia had left him weak. He was sleeping almost constantly and even short periods out of bed left him dead tired. His wife had assured him repeatedly that he would regain his strength but it would take time. This morning he spotted his father-in-law standing by the window as he came conscious. He stirred and tried to push himself up without much luck.

"Is there something you wanted, Lord Grantham?" he asked. Tom was used to calling his father-in-law milord, but his pride wouldn't allow him to say that word. Not after the way he had spoken to Sybil and him when they had announced their marriage.

"I thought we should have a talk without the women present."

"As you wish," Tom said. "Though I would prefer to speak to you when I am dressed."

"Fine," said Lord Grantham looking somewhat perturbed. "Meet me in the library in half an hour if you can manage it."

Once Lord Grantham left the room Tom got up and dressed. He was marginally better than the last time he had attempted to get fully dressed as he managed to get his cloths on and do up his tie before he had to sit down to rest. It was coming on lunchtime and Sybil would not be back from her nursing duties at the hospital until late that afternoon. If he was going to have it out with her father, he might as well do it when Sybil wouldn't walk in and catch him. His wife had had enough upsets at the hands of her family this last while as far as he was concerned.

Tom made his way down the stairs. He didn't see any of the staff about this morning, which was a good thing. The only one he had seen since they had announced their marriage was Anna. She had given him a good scolding before his wife had walked in and caught her there. Otherwise they delivered the meals to his room and picked up the trays without a word.

He had to stop and rest in the great hall once he got to the bottom of the stairs. He stared towards the library dreading the exchange that was about to come but knowing it had to happen. After a few minutes he had caught his breath, stood and squared his shoulders and walked into the library.

"You wanted to see me, Lord Grantham?" Tom said.

"Yes, come in."

Tom walked into the middle of the room and stood where he could grab the back of a chair if he had to. Lord Grantham turned towards him and laid down his pen.

"I wanted to know what you were thinking when you married my daughter," Lord Grantham said.

"I was thinking how much I love her and want to make her happy," Tom said not taking his eyes off Lord Grantham.

"I see. You never once thought about how you are ruining her life?"

"I'm not ruining her life," Tom said trying to keep his temper. "Did it ever occur to you that Sybil is with me because it makes her happy?"

"A strange kind of happiness married to a servant."

"I'm not a servant anymore. I have a job at a paper arranged for next month. I'm not afraid to work. When my health gets better I will apply to a larger paper."

"You're ambitious. I can make it worth your while to walk away. The marriage can be annulled. No one will be harmed. I'll be generous."

Lord Grantham pulled out his checkbook from the desk and began to write.

"What did you say?" Tom said somewhat incredulously.

"I said, I'll be generous. Name your price."

"I see," said Tom. "It may surprise you to know, _Lord Grantham_, that there are others besides you and your class who are honorable. Nothing will make me break my vows to your daughter. We are married for the rest of our lives and nothing you can do will change that." Tom was rapidly loosing strength from the stress of confronting his father-in-law and grabbed the back of a chair for support. "Further more," he continued. "If you were so concerned for Sybil's happiness you would have encouraged her in going to college instead of deriding her for it. Your attitude hurt her. All she really wants is your approval and yet you keep withholding it from her. What kind of father are you?"

"How dare you?"

"I'm not speaking to you now as an employee. When it comes to my wife and her happiness I will dare to say whatever I please!"

"I want you to leave this house as soon as you are able."

"Nothing would make me happier than to leave today, but it isn't possible. We both know that."

Lord Grantham looked at Tom for a long minute before he tore up the check, turned and strode out of the room. Tom let out the breath he was holding and sat down heavily in the nearest chair. Isis came to him and wagged her tail.

"Well at least you're happy I'm here," Tom said patting her on the head. "You're maybe the only one." The tears were forming in the corners of his eyes and rolled down his cheeks to fall on the furry head. His long illness, confinement and opposition to their marriage were taking their toll. He was trying his best to do the right thing by his wife, but it wasn't easy. He still hadn't heard back from his family. He could just imagine the reaction when they found out he had married a Protestant. At the moment he felt as though he had been thrown into a brick wall that he would never find his way around.

"What are you doing here?" Edith said as she walked into the library. "Sybil will have a fit if she finds out you were up when you should be resting."

Tom didn't look up. He didn't want her to see that he had been crying.

"I've been talking to your father."

"I bet that was fun," Edith said sarcastically. "Papa can be a absolute troll when he puts his mind to it."

Edith could see the glimmer of wet on Tom's cheeks and wanted to tactfully give him a moment to wipe it away.

"I'm just going to go hang up my coat. Then maybe I could come back and we could have a chat," she said. "I haven't had a chance to properly welcome you to the family."

Tom just nodded as he continued to pat the dog. As soon as Edith left the room he wiped his face with his handkerchief and got some water from the drink cart. When Edith came back into the room she crossed to the sofa and sat down.

"You mustn't mind Papa and Granny," she said. "They are both set in their ways. Mary is just like them at times."

"What should I call you? I can't very well go around calling my sister-in-law "Milady".

"Lady Edith will do just fine. I would prefer just Edith, but if Papa heard you it would just add fuel to the fire I'm afraid. I for one am quite glad you and Sybil are married. I have never seen her look so happy as when she is with you. Even when you were so terribly ill, you could tell how much she cares for you."

"Thank you for saying so. You're the only one so far who hasn't given me what for."

"Why would I? I know better than anyone what this life is like and how it feels to want to do something else. Sybil said you encouraged her to go to nursing school. I doubt she could have done it without your support. I know I won't be able to do anything on my own. It's much more difficult than most people realize."

"Don't count yourself out, Lady Edith. You've learned to drive. That's more than other people around here have done."

Edith regarded her brother-in-law for a few minutes.

"You know now that you mention it, it was you who taught me to drive and wouldn't give up no matter how badly I was doing. Sybil said you were incredibly kind. Now I see what she meant."

Tom turned bright red.

"I was just doing my job," he said.

"Well, I never thanked you. Now I am, but I still think there is no hope for me."

"There is always hope. Just find what you like and do it. You will survive your family's expectations. Sybil made a different way and no one has disowned her yet. There is room for change."

"You are rather a rebel on a personal level," Edith said with a sigh. "I'll think about it. It is nice to have someone around here that thinks differently. Mary and I are always at odds. I did something to her once that I regret, but there is no way to mend that."

"Forgive me for saying this, but did you tell her your sorry. You might find it goes a long way."

"You sound like the Reverend Travis."

"Do I? I'm sure the saints will be turning in their graves," Tom said with a glint of his old self in his eyes.

Edith allowed a small smile to cross her face.

"Why don't you come in to luncheon with me. There is no sense going all the way back up stairs just to have your lunch alone."

"I'm not sure the rest of your family would welcome me."

"Don't be silly. You'll be here for Christmas. You can tell me what I should get Sybil for a gift. I don't have a clue."

"Alright," Tom said feeling somewhat heartened at having at least one member of the family treat him as though he belonged. He got up and offered Edith his arm as they walked to the dining room.

"There's no way I can go get her a gift. Perhaps we could get her one together. Just the other day Sybil mention how much she needed a ..."

The two of them showed up in the dining room together to a show of raised eyebrows around the table.

"I'm surprised to see you downstairs, Tom," Lady Cora said.

"He was down for a bit and I thought he should come through to lunch," Edith said. "You must be going crazy up there all alone."

"It's a bit tedious, but I'm not up that much," Tom said.

"Well, just don't over do things," Lady Cora said. "Now come and take a seat beside me."

Lord Grantham could only give Tom a dirty look with the other's present. Mary was out for the day.

"You said you have a job lined up in York," Lady Cora inquired. "What type of job is it?"

Tom spent the next while telling Lady Cora and Edith about the position he had waiting at the newspaper. To their surprise, he seemed to know exactly which spoon and fork went with what and never made an error at the table. The small detail was not lost on Lord Grantham either who remained silent during the meal. Carson glared at Tom but remained dutifully silent throughout the luncheon.

Immediately after lunch Tom made his excuses and headed back upstairs. He was visibly failing and Edith walked him back to his room.

"He is an odd fellow, isn't he?" Lord Grantham commented.

"A bit of an enigma, but you can tell he adores Sybil."

"Yes, quite. I'll leave the Christmas arrangements to you, my dear. I have no idea what to do with him."

"It will all work out, Robert," Lady Cora said as she got up to head into town and meet with her mother-in-law.


	12. Christmas 1915

Christmas 1915

Lady Rosamund Hepworth arrived at Downton late afternoon on Christmas Eve. This was Rosamund's childhood home and it never felt quite like Christmas when she was away from it. She was anxious to arrive and find out how Sybil had made out since her return from nursing school. She had had Sybil to dinner at least once a month over the last year and had grown quite fond of her.

Ladies Cora, Mary and Edith were waiting to greet her as was her brother Robert. After their initial greetings Rosamund asked, "Where is Sybil? Isn't she here."

"She's at the local hospital Aunt. She'll be home later," said Edith.

"I want to hear all about what she's been doing since she finished her schooling. None of you have mentioned anything in your letters."

"It's a bit complicated," Mary said.

"Why don't you come in and I will tell you all about it," Lady Cora said wanting to talk to Rosamund away from the prying ears of the servants.

"Where is your regular chauffeur?" Rosamund inquired. "I liked him much better. This new one is not a very good driver. My butler Jennings raved about your old one after he was in London last year. It seems Jennings was laid up and your chauffeur took care of every detail concerning Sybil. Jennings said he had never seen anything like it."

"I wonder why," Lady Cora said dryly. "Do come into the drawing room and I'll ring for some tea. Your mother should be over any minute."

Lord Grantham had just rolled his eyes heaven wards and made his escape back into the library. He didn't want to deal with his sister's reaction and his mother's remarks today.

A short while later, the ladies were assembled in the drawing room and the Dowager Countess had arrived.

"We weren't sure how to tell you," Lady Cora began, addressing her comments to her sister-in-law. "Sybil is married."

"This is rather sudden," Lady Rosamund exclaimed. "Why wasn't I invited to the wedding?"

"The thing is none of us were," said Lady Cora. "She married Tom Branson last October while she was still in London."

"Branson, isn't that your chauffeur?"

"Well, he was," said Lady Cora slowly.

"She isn't in trouble is she? I hope Robert ran him off."

"No, she's not in trouble as you put it. Actually, he's upstairs. He's been very ill. Too ill to leave at least for a few more weeks."

Rosamund was looking from her mother to her sister-in-law in a state of shock.

"Now Rosamund," the Dowager Countess said. "The damage is done. We must work to minimize the scandal. What we have to work with is a mystery to me at the moment. We will have to think of something."

"He's here?" Rosamund squeaked out. "In this house?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so," said Lady Cora.

"He's a nice man if any of you would go and talk to him," Edith said. She shrunk as four pairs of eyes turned on her.

"And what would you know about it?" Mary baited her.

"I'm just saying he's not that bad once you get to know him," Edith said looking down at her teacup.

"Well he is very polite and Sybil is determined. We will just have to accept things," Lady Cora stated.

"However are we going to handle things over the holidays when our friends visit?" Lady Rosamund stated. "Think of the scandal."

"Not only that how are we going to handle the entire holiday? You best leave the friends to me. I will think of something to tell them," the Dowager Countess said. "I had best go up and have a word with him before dinner."

"Sybil will be home from the hospital soon Granny," said Mary. "She's incredibly protective of him. She treats him like a china doll."

"He's an adult who can fend for himself," said the Dowager Countess. "He is also my grandson-in-law. How can one make a silk purse from a sow's ear if one never speaks to him? Now where can I find him?"

"I think I will go pick Sybil up from the hospital," said Edith as she headed out the door. "And warn her," she muttered under her breath.

* * *

Lady Violet, the Dowager Countess Grantham didn't bother to knock as she reached the door of the Imperial Bedroom. She had William enter behind her and set a tea tray on a small table in the room. Tom had been asleep when she entered and woke with a start in the gloom of the late afternoon.

"Do turn on the light for me William, before you leave," Lady Violet instructed.

"Will that be all milady," William asked.

"Yes, you can leave me and my grandson-in-law alone," she said. "How do you take your tea? Tom is it? I can't very well call you Branson in front of the guests."

"Black, and yes my first name is Tom" he said as he rolled onto one elbow and frowned. "What are you doing here Lady Violet?"

"I've been hearing all about Sybil's and your union third hand and I've come to see for myself," she said before handing Tom his cup of tea and taking the chair William had placed for her by the bed. She regarded Tom for a moment over her cup of tea. "You certainly are a mess. No wonder Cora said you wouldn't be going anywhere in the next few weeks."

"No, not for a few," Tom said. "What can I do for you?"

"Are you by any chance related to the Bransons near Cork?" Lady Violet inquired.

"I have cousins near Cork that I've never met. I beg your pardon, Lady Violet, but what do my relations have to do with anything?"

"Oh, what a shame you haven't met them," Lady Violet clucked. "The right connections can make things so much easier. The aristocracy isn't survived by its refusal to change. Far be it from me to stand in the way of the next generation."

Tom eyed Sybil's grandmother skeptically. She was up to something. He hadn't driven the woman around for more than a year, not to notice how she seemed to be right in the middle of most of the gossip that was circulating around the estate. It always seemed whatever rumor was afoot, Lady Violet's interests were always well protected.

"I'm sorry, I still don't understand what you're doing here."

"Sybil is my granddaughter and while I may not agree with her choice of husband, it is done now. That makes you part of my family and as such you are under my protection."

Tom choked on his tea. He set the cup down on the side table and grabbed a cloth to cough into. When the coughing finally subsided Lady Violet continued.

"My son does not agree with my point of view. You will need to leave changing his mind up to Lady Cora and myself. Now I want you to tell me about yourself. If you want your wife to make it through the next two weeks in this house relatively unscathed you are going to have to help me."

"What do you want to know?"

"I've been told you are going to work in journalism? How did you settle on that?"

"I've been writing for the last year in my spare time. My work is well received and I was able to find a position easily."

"Do you have any education?"

Tom tensed at the question.

"I attended school until I was twenty. Why?"

"Educated men are better accepted in our circles. What did you study?"

"I minored in political science," he said. Her line of questioning was getting much too close to the truth for his liking and he started to scowl.

"And?" Lady Violet banged her walking stick on the floor. "There is no use evading my questions," she said. "I will find the truth even if I have to use that infernal contraption my son has had installed in my house. Why anyone would want a telephone is beyond me, but it does have its uses."

"I don't like to discuss my field of study. Why is it important? I didn't finish it fully. I left and went to work."

"The plot thickens. It is no use evading the question young man. I can sit here all night if I have to."

"I studied," he paused and took a breath, "theology at a religious school outside of Dublin," Tom finally said in a rush. "I learned how to drive when I was there. When I left school I went to work as a chauffeur because I already knew how and I was good at it."

"Theology and political science are an odd combination," Lady Violet commented. "Well, now I know where you got your interest in politics. Can I assume you plan on writing political pieces for the paper where you will work?"

"My writing so far has been focused on social change rather than politics. I will work on whatever I'm assigned but I assume it will be largely political."

"Now there is something I can work with," Lady Violet said gleefully. "I expect you to appear at all the family activities tomorrow. The family hands out the servant's gifts in the morning."

"My presence will make the servants uncomfortable. I don't think I should be there."

"Nonsense. They are employees. Your place as part of this family must be established. Do I make myself clear?" Lady Violet gave Tom a stern look.

"Very."

Just then Sybil walked in the door. Edith was just behind her looking nervous.

"Oh Granny, I'm surprised to find you here." Sybil said in a practiced tone. "Are you two having a nice visit?"

Sybil leaned over and kissed her husband's cheek before she took a place on the bed beside him.

"Your grandmother was just telling me about the Christmas celebrations tomorrow," Tom said.

"I was telling Tom, I expect him to attend Christmas with the family," Lady Violet said with her sweetest smile. "He must be welcomed into the family properly."

"Granny, what are you up to?" Sybil inquired. Edith's eyes were wide as she listened to the exchange.

"Nothing dear, just getting to know your husband better. Now I must go down for dinner. It takes me longer than you young people to go down. Do hurry up Edith the dressing gong has already sounded."

With that Lady Violet got up and left the room.

"What was she up to?" Sybil inquired of Tom. Edith entered the room as well and closed the door behind her.

"I'm not sure. She was asking about my education and was quite insistent I attend all of the family activities tomorrow."

"Well, we won't be going to church tomorrow," Edith volunteered. "Its already starting to snow heavily. We won't be going anywhere in the morning."

"I'm afraid you may have some very creative things said about your background," Sybil said. "They are busy plotting how to minimize the scandal of our marriage."

"Because the chauffeur isn't good enough?" Tom asked, already knowing the answer.

"We've both told you how hard it is from the inside in this life," Edith said. "You may witness it first hand over the next few days. I had best get changed. Sybil are you coming down tonight?"

"No, I'll have dinner with Tom. We will come to the dining room tomorrow for Christmas dinner. That should appease Granny."

"Despite the rationing and the poor selection in the shops, this may prove to be one of the most interesting Christmas in years," Edith said before she left.

"I'm glad to know I am the source of their amusement," Tom said petulantly.

"You knew what this world was before you married me," Sybil said. She got up and opened the curtains to reveal snow falling in large puffy flakes against the night sky. I'm going to get cleaned up and then order our dinner sent up. I'm staying with you tonight, do you think you're up to it.

"Only if you promise to lock the door on your family until tomorrow," he said starting to smile.

"I think that can be arranged," Sybil said as she leaned over to give him a kiss. "Happy Christmas, darling."

Christmas morning came too early for Sybil. She had promised to do a four-hour shift later in the afternoon to help everyone at the hospital have a little time off on Christmas Day. Tom and Sybil had spent the evening having dinner by firelight and watching the snow drift past the window. Sybil thought it was the most perfect, romantic Christmas she had ever had. After they had finished eating they had unlocked the door long enough to push the tray and soiled dishes into the hall. Sybil knew someone would be by to pick them up later and they didn't want to be disturbed.

The soft light illuminated the room as Sybil joined Tom under the thick down coverlet on the bed. Tom wrapped his arms around her and attempted to roll Sybil over when Sybil resisted and said, "Not this time darling, you're going to have to let me be in control." She threw her nightdress off and curled her body on top of his. It wasn't long before they made short work of the pajamas he had been wearing to preserve some modesty with people going in and out of the room throughout the day.

Sybil relished the feeling of his warm fair skin against hers. It had been almost two months of worry and fear and she longed for the comfort she found in his embrace. When she kissed him, her hair cascaded around them as though they were wrapped in a cocoon where they were completely protected. Tom kissed her hungrily and guided the movements of her body on top of his with his hands. He cupped first one breast and then the other and sucked on her hardened nipples as though he would never get enough. It wasn't long and Sybil was overcome with desire. She sat up and lowered herself onto his erection. She experimented with the sensation of being on top for the first time by changing the pace and finding just the right position to allow him to fully enter her. Tom's hands gripped her waist as he groaned with the new sensations of Sybil's experimenting. Sybil reached down and pulled him into a sitting position wrapping her arms around him. She had missed him so much over the last few months. She had missed this and their times they spent alone when it felt as though the outside world didn't matter. Tom finally took charge and rolled Sybil over onto her back. They finished in a frenzy of making up for lost time and desire too long denied. When they were finally curled together with Sybil lying on her side facing Tom and him on his back watching the snowfall they had fallen asleep without the need for any words between them.

* * *

The servant's gifts had gone about as well as could be expected. Tom stood in the family line between Sybil and Lady Cora. Lady Violet had been busy the night before and the entire family was expecting him to be there. Even Lord Grantham had wished him a Happy Christmas before beginning to hand out gifts to his employees.

"Remember they are my employees," he had said. "I will not tolerate disrespect to any member of my family regardless of my personal opinions."

The staff had come by and most had not said anything or just said, "Mr. Branson," in greeting but no one had outright glared at him. Daisy had blushed profusely when she reached Sybil and Tom. "Happy Christmas," she wished them without looking up. Mrs. Hughes had been the only one to stop for a minute.

"You look so much better than when I last saw you," she said. "I'm sure you will be on the way to full recovery soon. Happy Christmas to both of you."

Afterwards they had all gathered around the tree to open the family gifts. Tom sat quietly by the fire not expecting to receive anything.

"This one has your name on it," Edith said handing him a package.

Tom looked at the tag and was surprised to find it was from Edith. He opened it to reveal a pair of leather gloves.

"You won't be wearing your driving gloves anymore," she said. "You'll need some to look distinguished in your new career."

Sybil was surprised when she received a small parcel from both Edith and Tom. Inside was a pin on nursing watch in the style she had been wanting since before graduation. She got up and hugged Edith and then went over to sit beside her husband, kissed him on the cheek and slid her arms around him. Mary looked at her sister in disgust. She was sitting on the sofa with her arms around her husband and the two of them were grinning at each other like a pair of lovesick fools. In Mary's opinion they were too open with their feelings, although deep down she envied them and wished it were her and Matthew that had managed to work things out so they would be together now.

Edith felt a sharp pang of envy before she reminded herself that her new brother-in-law was one of the few people connected to the family who actually listened to her opinions without judging her. She had even taken his advice and told Mary she was sorry for writing to the Turkish Ambassador. Mary had scoffed at the apology but the barbed comments had stopped and they were getting along marginally better.

Soon enough Sybil and Cousin Isobel had to head to the hospital for the afternoon. Tom headed back upstairs as he was worn out yet again. Lady Rosamund watched him retreat until he was well out of earshot.

"At least you've got something to work with mother," she said. "And he certainly is easy on the eyes. The women will be so busy staring they won't have time to ask any questions."

"I still don't like to see Sybil married to him," Lord Grantham said.

"Like it or not, Robert there is no profit in a quarrel," said Lady Violet. "There is more to work with than one might expect. Did you know he went to university of some kind? He said it was a religious school."

"No, I didn't know. Another of his deep dark secrets I suppose."

"Didn't you inquire at the interview?"

"He was a chauffeur, mother. It was more important to find out if he could drive an expensive automobile than how much education he had."

"You know it's the oddest thing," Lady Cora said. "He joined us for luncheon the other day and his manners would put some of our acquaintances to shame."

"Sybil seems perfectly happy with him," Mary said. "Although I can't see him fitting in with any of our kind. No matter how nice his manners are. He was still our chauffeur you can't change that."

"Oh, give it a rest Mary," Edith said. "I think I'll go down to the hospital with the others and see if there is something I can do. It is Christmas after all. Even if I just read letters for some of the patients, it is better than doing nothing."

"Don't tell me that man is influencing another of my daughters," Lord Grantham said.

"I don't see how he could be," chimed in Lady Rosamund. "Reading letters is not running off to nursing school. Edith is just lonely and trying to her bit."

"Lord Grantham just rolled his eyes. He could get nowhere in this hot house of feminine emotion. He went to take his dog out for a short walk on the grounds. When even she ran off barking at a rabbit, he threw up his hands in exasperation.

"I give up," he said. "My daughters will do what they want. Doesn't anyone in this house listen to me anymore?"


	13. Yuletide

Yuletide

Sybil and Tom had joined the family for the evening meal on Christmas Day much to her father's annoyance. Tom's hair hadn't been cut since he had gotten ill almost two months ago and his appearance was getting to be somewhat shaggy. As well he had worn a plain suit as Lynch, Lord Grantham's valet had been unable to find any evening wear in the store cupboards that was anywhere near Tom's size.

"I really don't want to eat with your family tonight," Tom had complained to Sybil. "I don't want to push things too fast. They barely tolerated me this morning."

"Don't be ridiculous," said Sybil. "If you are going to be part of my family, you will have to act like you belong. I don't care about your lack of evening attire. They will just have to be happy with who you are."

When they had arrived in the dining room Lord Grantham had looked at Tom and gave him a dismissive glare. Lady Violet had just taken her seat when she spotted them.

"This will never do," she said with her eyebrows raised at Sybil and Tom. Both Edith and Mary covered their mouths to hide their titters of laughter.

"Honestly, Grandmamma," Sybil said. "You insisted we be here and we are. It's only family tonight. Can't we just have a nice Christmas?"

"Yes of course dear, but we must do something about your husband's appearance."

"What's the difference," Sybil said. "In a few weeks we'll be gone."

"Sybil, how were things at the hospital today?" her Aunt inquired to change the subject.

Tom remained quiet throughout the meal and replied only when spoken to. Sybil had been encouraged by the morning but he sensed the family was putting on a polite façade to hide their true feelings. As he was regaining a little strength and able to stay up longer he was feeling more and more like an animal trapped in a gilded cage.

"Are you joining us for the game?" Mary asked Tom.

"What game is that?" Tom asked. He was wondering inside his head if it was the one where they put him on a spit and roasted him over the fire. Sybil had looked up excitedly at the mention of it.

"It's ever so fun, darling. Please try and stay up," Sybil said excitedly.

After dinner they moved to the great hall and played charades and a few other games. Tom thought how much they actually seem like a normal family despite the butler standing by to offer them drinks while they enjoyed the Christmas festivities. Sybil's look of happiness more than made up for the occasional disapproving look he caught from her father.

A few days later Tom was sitting up reading the newspaper when there was a knock on the door. Lady Violet and Lady Rosamund rushed in followed by two men and a bevy of maids carrying boxes.

"Oh good, you're up," said Lady Violet. "We are expecting guests tonight for dinner. I expect you to attend with Sybil."

"Lady Violet, what is all this?" he asked.

"We're just taking a little corrective action," Lady Rosamund said. "When we're done no one will ever recognize you as the former chauffeur."

"Now, just wait a minute," Tom said. Both women had expectant looks on their faces with their eyebrows raised. They were obviously quite pleased with themselves. "What form does this corrective action take?"

"Just a little window dressing, nothing too drastic," said Lady Rosamund. "Now we'll leave you with these gentlemen to do their work. Don't argue. My Mama always gets her way."

"Must be an inherited trait," Tom mumbled under his breath.

"What was that?" Lady Violet turned at the door.

"I just said, this should be a real treat," Tom lied.

"Well, yes it should," said Lady Violet as she closed the door with a firm click.

Three hours later Tom had a fresh haircut and shave and had been outfitted with two silk shirts and a complete set of tails including shoes. He had drawn the line at the proffered top hat and had steadfastly refused to allow the barber to douse him with flowery aftershave.

"I will not smell like I just came from a bawdy house," he said stubbornly. When the men finally cleared out he looked at himself in the mirror and almost didn't recognize the reflection staring back. He was thinner than he had been a few months ago. The expensive haircut suited him and the barber had managed to tame his thick blonde hair without the use of styling cream. The dark under his eyes was almost faded. The only recognizable trait was the blueness of his eyes staring back.

There was a knock on the door with a message from Ladies Violet and Rosamund that he was to join them in the drawing room when he was prepared to come down. When Tom entered the drawing room, both women regarded him critically. His mother-in-law was also present and looked at him with her mouth slightly agape.

"Well, I must say you clean up rather well," said Lady Rosamund.

"Yes, you'll do," said Lady Violet. "A little gilding on the lily never hurt anyone. Our guests should be arriving in an hour or so. When do you expect Sybil back?"

"She should be here any minute."

"Plenty of time then," said Lady Violet. "Now I have done considerable work towards this party tonight. I expect you to behave yourself and not undo the work I have done."

"Lady Violet, I can't pretend to be someone I'm not."

"I never said you should," she replied regarding him sternly. "Keep the topic of conversation to something you know, like politics. Lady Agatha's husband is something to do with parliament isn't he?"

"Oh heavens mother, I never keep track of these things."

"I'm sure Tom will do fine," Lady Cora said finally coming out of her shock.

Just then the door to the drawing room opened and Sybil entered still wearing her nursing uniform.

"Mama, Carson just told me we are having company tonight," Sybil's voice trailed off as she saw her husband standing in the drawing room. At first she hadn't recognized him until he smiled at her. Her mouth went dry and it was all she could do not to rush forward and touch him to see if he was real.

"Your Grandmother and Aunt gave me a bit of a makeover. What do you think?" Tom said.

"Lovely," Sybil said barely above a whisper. She was still staring at him with awe and a look of stunned admiration.

"He does clean up quite well," Lady Violet said. "You must hurry up, dear. The guests will be arriving soon."

"The Hollingworth boys are home on leave. Our numbers won't be quite so lopsided tonight," Lady Cora commented.

The three elder women continued to discuss the upcoming dinner and guest list. Tom held out his hand to Sybil. She moved as though she were in a dream and walked out of the drawing room with him hand in hand.

"Oh to be young and in love," Lady Rosamund said. "Is there anything more delightful?"

"Young and extremely foolish is the more appropriate term I believe," said her mother. "I can see what Sybil saw in him though. What young woman could resist him? Lets just hope all my ground work isn't for nothing."

"He's very devoted to her," Lady Cora said. "I only hope the other two find men who care for them as much."

"It is something in his favor," said Lady Violet. "Let's just hope there are no unfavorable surprises tonight. At least he knows how to hold a fork."

Tom and Sybil were in Sybil's old room. She slept with him now in the Imperial Bedroom but still came back to her old room to change.

"Your grandmother warned me not to undo the work she's done," Tom said. He was watching Sybil move around the bedroom as she changed for dinner.

"Maybe she doesn't want you to muss your new haircut," Sybil teased.

"She told me to stick to safe topics like politics."

"I hardly think that's a safe topic," Sybil said while doing up a necklace. She turned her back to Tom so he could zip her dress for her.

"I wouldn't mind staying here and foregoing this party," Tom said with a devilish gleam in his eye.

"We would never hear the end of it. They've gone to a lot of trouble to make you look presentable. Well more than presentable," Sybil said with a blush. "Whatever they've come up with just go with it. Lie if you have to. You don't want to alienate Granny. Father thinks he runs things around here, but its really Granny who does."

Sybil was holding Tom's hands while she stood in front of him. He looked up from where he was sitting and realized how much she wanted her family to accept her marriage.

"Alright," he said. "I'll be on my best behavior. I doubt politics is the right topic of conversation if they are all Tories."

Sybil leaned down and kissed him on the lips. "I'll be the envy of every woman in that room," she said.

All eyes had turned to Sybil and Tom as they entered the drawing room that evening before supper. The sight of them together, both so stunningly attractive and in love at the same time had taken the ladies breaths away and brought the room to a stand still.

"Oh my," remarked one of the female guests. Sybil moved forward into the room and began introducing Tom to her parent's guests. As they circulated they were joined by Sybil's mother.

"We didn't see anything in the papers about Sybil's marriage," one of the guests remarked. "Why didn't you put out any announcements?"

"Tom fell ill shortly after the wedding," Lady Cora said before Tom or Sybil had a chance to respond. "It didn't seem to be a priority at the time."

"Oh yes, I can see what you mean," said Lady Agatha. "I do hope you are feeling better now?"

"Yes, much better, thank you," Tom responded with a smile.

"Where ever did Sybil find him?" Lady Violet overheard one of the guests commenting to another.

"I heard he's a journalist. They married while she was in London. He is quite lovely isn't he?"

Lady Violet smiled to herself. So far her plans were working out perfectly. As long as Cora, Rosamund and herself could avoid any pitfalls tonight the groundwork would be in place to smooth things over nicely.

Once they moved through to the dining room Tom was seated beside Lady Violet on one side Lord Martin, Lady Agatha's husband on the other.

"Lady Violet mentioned you were interested in politics," Lord Martin commented. "What do you think of the new man running for the Tories?"

"He's the perfect Tory," Tom caught him self before he said ass, and quickly substituted, "for the position."

"He is obnoxious in person, but will tow the party line," Lord Martin said. "Have you ever given much thought to the vote issue?"

"Yes, considerable, I think broadening the vote is inevitable."

"I quite agree, although the current bill is on hold until the war is finished. I don't think it goes far enough."

With that the two men were off discussing their favorite topic and Lady Violet breathed a sigh of relief until it was time for the ladies to go through to the drawing room.

"When are you going to your new job?" Lord Martin inquired of Tom.

"Next month. Another two weeks and we should be able to find a place to live," Tom said.

"Have you found any staff yet? I have had a devil of a time replacing my valet with this war on."

"We're not hiring any staff," said Tom.

Lord Grantham gave him a warning look.

"That is most highly irregular," said Lord Martin with a perplexed look on his face. The other men in the room also looked at Tom questioningly.

"My wife will be working at the hospital. She's a nurse," said Tom. "We plan on getting a small place. Then we can make do with occasional help since neither of us will be home regular hours. Sybil usually eats at the hospital anyway."

"But what about a valet? You don't mean to say you dress yourself all the time?"

"Since I was little," Tom said. "I'm used to it."

"Such modern ideas," said Lord Martin, "but then this country needs new thinkers. The old way of thinking isn't doing much good with this war? What do you think Robert?"

Tom was glad to have the attention diverted off him as the conversation picked up in new directions. He was sure he had overheard someone earlier whisper about a family connection linking him to the Howards. He was getting tired and the constant social games these people played were wreaking havoc on his nerves. He was wondering how much longer before he could politely make an excuse to retire for the evening.

The men finished their drinks and headed through to the drawing room.

"You're doing quite well. Keep it up and don't embarrass my household," Lord Grantham told him quietly before they reached the main group.

"I wasn't planning on it," Tom replied as he moved through the doors to find his wife.

Mary was of course flirting with both the Hollingsworth's sons who were home on leave from the front. Sybil was engaged in conversation with a group of women and Edith was looking uncomfortable and at a loose end standing off to one side. Tom crossed over to stand beside Edith rather than interrupt Sybil's conversation.

"How are you holding up?" Edith inquired quietly.

"I'm alright," Tom said. "Its not too hard to sit on a chair and be waited on."

"Granny has been busy," Edith said. "They all think you're wonderful."

"That should make your father happy," Tom said somewhat bitterly.

"Ignore him. If you make the right impression with this lot it could launch your political career. Never underestimate Granny. She probably has a connection to the PM himself that she can pull."

Tom just sighed. It was all getting too much for him and he needed to go to bed soon, before he had trouble getting up the stairs.

"Have you given any thought to what you might like to do? When we talked the other day you said you would like to do something useful."

"I like farming," Edith said. "But no one wants to talk about that."

"Why not? Its important isn't it? Agricultural production will be more important than ever the longer this war lasts. I overheard one of those soldiers over there saying he was planning to farm his family estate when the war is over. Let's go pry him away from Mary," Tom said in a conspiratal tone.

"I don't know," Edith fretted.

"Come on, I wasn't given these angelic looks for nothing. That woman over there has been looking at me all night like she wants to eat me with a spoon," Tom said making Edith laugh.

Tom managed to circulate the room with Edith for another ten minutes before he managed to make his way to Sybil's side.

"Are you ready to go up?" Sybil asked him.

Tom was tired enough he could only nod. Sybil said their goodnights to her parents and they finally made their escape.

"I saw you taking care of Edith," she said. "It was nice of you."

"Do they always treat her like that?" Tom asked.

"Like what?" Sybil was used to her family interactions and Edith always being awkward.

"Like her opinion doesn't count."

"I've never noticed," Sybil said. "You did awfully well tonight. My parents should be pleased."

"Your father warned me not to embarrass him."

They had reached their bedroom and Tom flopped on the bed.

"Can you get a copy of the York paper when you're in the village tomorrow?" Tom asked.

"Why?"

"I want to start checking the paper to see if there are any flats for rent."

"We can talk about it later. Right now you need to go to bed."

Tom only nodded meekly. The evening had worn him out.

The next day over luncheon the previous night's soiree was the central topic of discussion. Sybil was at the hospital and Tom had not woken up since he went to bed the previous evening.

"Everything went according to plan," Rosamund crowed. "They didn't suspect a thing."

"You weren't there when he informed the room they would not be hiring servants," Lord Grantham grimaced.

"In the big scheme of things, that's nothing Robert," Rosamund said. "There are more and more of our class who are letting their staff go."

"The others didn't seem to notice anything untoward in it. I have to admit he did do quite well. We can only wonder what our mother will have up her sleeve next."

"If you leave it to her, Tom will have a title before you can blink," Lady Cora said with a smirk.


	14. An Unexpected Guest

An Unexpected Guest

Just after mid afternoon rounds Sybil was preparing a surgical tray when she was summoned to the front of the hospital for a phone call by one of the auxiliary nurses. She carefully finished her task, wrapped the tray and placed the sterilized instruments back into their respective places. There was no sense in leaving them out to be contaminated and having to start the process all over again.

Sybil went to the telephone and spoke into the mouthpiece.

"Nurse Branson, how may I help you?"

"Sybil, it's Edith. You better come home quick."

"Is it Tom? Is everything alright?"

"Tom's fine. He was asleep the last time I checked. Everyone's gone to a shoot. You have an unexpected guest. I didn't know what to do with her. She's down in the servants hall."

"Well, who is it? I can't just drop everything and run to entertain a guest."

"It's your mother-in-law. Tom's mother is here! Carson just came to tell me. What do I do with her?"

"Take her to see her son. We sent a letter but there has been no reply. I don't know if she even received it. Goodbye Edith. I'll be there as soon as I can."

As Sybil hung up the phone she took a deep breath. "What is his mother doing here?" she said out loud. She headed off to find Cousin Isobel and see if she could leave before the end of her shift in two hours. Sybil had no idea if Tom's mother had received their letter or even what her reaction would be to his marrying a member of the aristocracy. Tom had mentioned she wouldn't be too pleased about his marrying a Protestant, but the title and house and all that went with it were a bit much for anyone not expecting it.

Sybil made her arrangements and hurried outside to where the ambulances were parked. The estate chauffeur was off with her parents and Mary today, she would have to find a ride or walk back in the melting snow. Sybil didn't want to call Edith to come and get her and leave Tom there alone with the staff. If only she had gotten him to teach her to drive before she left for college, Sybil thought with frustration.

It was half an hour since Edith's call before Sybil found someone to drive her back to the Abbey. She rushed in the front doors and ran into Anna as soon as she entered.

"Anna where is everyone?" Sybil inquired.

"Lady Edith took Mr. Branson's mother upstairs a little while ago," said Anna. "I haven't seen either of them since."

Sybil looked up the stairs with a feeling of dread. This must be how prisoners feel when their going to the gallows she thought to herself. She took off her coat and hung it in the closet before she headed up. When she got to the door of the Imperial Bedroom she knocked softly before entering. Edith was standing at the window while a middle aged woman sat on a chair by the bed staring at Sybil's sleeping husband. She looked up at Sybil as she entered. Sybil was hit by the similarity in their eye color but that was the only resemblance between mother and son. This woman's face was round and her hair was a much darker shade of blonde streaked with grey. Her stature was small and slight. She looked like a puff of wind could blow her away at any minute.

For a fleeting second Sybil was glad she had picked up the room and hung their cloths before she had left for work that morning. Tom had been awake then, but the wear and tear from last night's soiree had been evident and he had gone directly back to bed when Sybil left for the hospital.

"You can wake him up, it's alright," Sybil said.

"Are you his nurse then?"

"I'm his wife, your daughter-in-law," Sybil said.

"He looks so peaceful, I didn't want to wake him," his mother said.

Just then Tom stirred. "Sybil?" he mumbled. "What time is it?"

"Wake up Tom. You have a visitor," Sybil said softly.

"If it's more of those toffs from last night, tell them to go away," Tom grumbled still half asleep and not opening his eyes. "I'm tired," he said with a sigh.

"It's your mother," Sybil said.

"Very funny," he was already falling back asleep as he rolled over and pulled the covers over his head.

"It's no joke," his mother said.

"Now you even sound like her," came from under the covers, before the covers flew back and he sat straight up. He rubbed of his hand over his eyes, before he looked at her.

"Ma! What are you doing here?"

"I came to find out what was going on. I got a letter saying my son had a bad case of pneumonia and a wife no one knew anything about. When I didn't hear anything else, I packed up and came to find out what was going on," she said. "What are you doing in this fancy bedroom and why aren't you in the cottage your employer was supplying? What is going on? You've been up to no good again. I just know it."

Sybil was nervously wringing her hands. Edith looked like she was trapped not wanting to move past the bed to get out the door and all the while fascinated by the scene that was playing out in front of her.

Tom was tired from the day before and his chest had been hurting almost all day. Ever since he left seminary his mother was convinced he was perpetually up to no good. Tom's mother had managed to hit on a raw nerve and sent his usually good humor into a frenzy of irritation.

"It's nice to see you too, Ma," Tom said. "This is my wife, Sybil." He reached over for Sybil's hand and drew her closer to the side of the bed. "That is my sister-in-law Edith and I'm in this fancy bedroom because the house belongs to their father. Just because I don't do exactly what you want doesn't mean I'm up to no good."

Almost right on cue he started to cough. Sybil got him a glass of water and went around the opposite side of the bed so she could sit beside Tom and rub his back until the coughing stopped.

"It's nice to meet you at last Mrs. Branson," Sybil said.

"Brown, I remarried after Tom's Da died," she said.

"Mrs. Brown," Sybil said. "Tom sent you a letter once he started to recover didn't you receive it?"

"No, I was at my sister's for a bit. She was feeling poorly and then I came here to see my son," Tom's mother looked at him. "You know I didn't mean it. Give your Mam a hug," she said putting her arms out to him.

Tom hugged her before he lay back down. He really was tired.

"We got married in October, Ma," he said. "Right before I got sick. I didn't write right away because I didn't know how to tell you I married someone outside the faith."

Tom's mother gasped and looked from Sybil to Edith. "Holy Mother Mary if you don't beat all, son."

"There's more and since you're here you might as well hear it now. Sybil is Lord Grantham's youngest daughter."

"That makes you?" Mrs. Brown looked at Sybil questioningly.

"A titled member of the aristocracy," said Sybil.

The shock was evident on the woman's face. Tom was lying back watching her.

"I didn't do it to hurt you, Ma. I married Sybil because I love her."

"I don't know what to say," said Mrs. Brown.

"It's a lot to take in," said Sybil. "Why don't you come down stairs and we'll get you some tea. You can come back up and visit Tom later tonight at dinnertime. I'm afraid he over did it a little yesterday and really needs to rest. Did you eat any lunch, Tom?"

"No, I slept through lunch. I really didn't want any. I'll eat later."

Sybil leaned over and kissed his cheek as she could see he was drifting off again. She got up to leave and headed to the door. Tom's mother got up and stroked the side of his face before she followed Sybil into the hall.

"Can you take Mrs. Brown down to the drawing room, Edith? I'll get changed and join you there," Sybil said.

Tom's mother reached out to take Sybil's hand and stop her from going.

"I really do love my son, despite how it may look."

"Of course you do," Sybil said. "It's all a lot to take in especially all at once. I love him too. He understands, don't worry. I'll be down in a minute."

Sybil changed her cloths and hurried down to the drawing room.

"I've rung for tea," Edith said moving towards the door. "I'll be in the library if you need me."

Sybil motioned for her mother-in-law to join her at a small morning table in the drawing room.

"I know this is awkward," Sybil began. "Please believe I love your son very much."

"What are you doing married to him?" Mrs. Brown asked. "A girl like you could have any man she wants. Are you going to toss him aside when you're finished playing with him?"

"I assure you we are married," Sybil said starting to bristle. "I vowed to be with him in sickness and in health and I'm still here. I always will be."

"Now don't get uppity," Mrs. Brown said. "I just want to know what's going on."

Sybil reached in the pocket of her skirt and pulled out a handful of beads.

"Tom said if I was ever in trouble to give this to you. You would know that it was from him and you would help me." Sybil laid his rosary in his mother's hand.

Mrs. Brown looked at the beads lying in her hand and the tears began to roll down her cheeks.

"I've been so worried," Mrs. Brown said, wiping her eyes with her handkerchief. "When I got here I didn't know what to think."

"I married your son because I love him and want to live a different life," Sybil said. "Please believe me. When I got back from nursing school in London he was in the hospital. He almost died. I brought him here where I could care for him myself. We're planning to move to York in January. Right now we don't have much choice where we live. He isn't strong enough to leave."

Right then Carson entered the room with the tea service followed by William with a tray of sandwiches and cakes. They laid the items out on the table before they took their leave.

"We didn't tell anyone when we first got married," Sybil said. "We were going to tell everyone when I finished my training but Tom took ill. We've only just recently told my parents."

"And how are they taking it?" Mrs. Brown asked.

"They've realized we are serious. My father is hurt and still not too pleased, but the others are slowly accepting that Tom is a permanent part of my life."

Mrs. Brown remained silent for a minute while she thought over what Sybil had said. "My son is often too headstrong for his own good. He's very like his father, a smile that could charm the birds from the trees and a temper to match, " she said with a sigh. "They aren't the easiest men to love, but you can't help yourself."

"What happened to Tom's father?" Sybil inquired. "He never mentions him."

"He died of consumption when Tom was very young. I remarried a few years later. My second husband raised Tom as his son." Mrs. Brown thought over her next words carefully. "You do realize your marriage won't be accepted in Ireland. It will be considered mixed. Not just that you are English but also that you are a Protestant."

"I really hadn't thought about it," Sybil said. "There really hasn't been much time to consider any of that. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Right now let me arrange a room for you. You must be tired. It's a lot to take in. We can have dinner with Tom later. My parents and other sister Mary are gone for the night. They will be back in the morning."

"I can't stay here," Mrs. Brown said.

"I don't see where else you could stay," Sybil said. "Edith would have to drive you back and forth from the village, the roads are too mucky to walk. It will just be easier all around if you're here."

Sybil rang for Mrs. Hughes. Once the arrangements were made she escorted her mother-in-law back upstairs to one of the guest bedrooms. Mrs. Brown's head was on a swivel as she stared at her surroundings as they moved through the house. What had her son gotten himself into this time, she wondered to herself. Despite Sybil's reassurances of her commitment to Tom and their life together, she still seriously had her doubts.

"Young fools," she said once Sybil had left her alone in the ridiculously large bedroom.


	15. Parents

Parents

Sybil arranged to change shifts at the hospital the next morning so that she would be at the house when her parents arrived home. Between her and Edith they decided on a serve yourself dinner in the dining room that would not have full table service and did not require formal attire. Once all the arrangements were made, Sybil gritted her teeth and headed upstairs to talk to her husband. He was just coming out of the bath when she arrived.

"I've put your mother in the blue bedroom," Sybil said. "We'll need to collect her for dinner in a few minutes. We've arranged a casual meal. It's just us and Edith tonight."

Tom nodded as he finished toweling out his hair. He began getting dressed but remained silent. Sybil stood up and went over to him and slipped her arms around his waist. He put an arm around her and pulled her close for a minute.

"I'm glad to see her," he said finally. "I just wish we were in our own place. I don't want to impose on your family more than we already are."

"It's not like the house isn't big enough," Sybil joked, trying to make light of the situation. "I had a talk with her earlier. She's been very worried about you and she's in shock from the whole situation."

"When are your parents due back?"

"Tomorrow morning. I've switched my shifts so I'll be here when they arrive."

"I'm sorry, Sybil, for all the problems, first my illness, then dealing with your parents and now this. It seems we've been plagued with nothing but troubles so far."

"Cheer up, Granny was practically dancing on the tables last night. You made a wonderful impression on all their friends. She likes you, although she'll never admit it to father."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," he said starting to smile. "Your Grandmother certainly has a creative interpretation of the truth.

"This is the aristocracy, darling. You don't really think they have a god given right to all this. They make it up as they go. Now, lets go get your mother and find Edith."

"Your father calls me the rebel. What would he say if he heard you?"

"Probably that we're more alike than he wants to admit," Sybil said with a laugh as they headed out the door.

The next morning Sybil insisted Tom stay in bed so as not to tire himself again. Her parents telephoned to say they would be home well before luncheon. Sybil was nervous about the meeting with her parents and Tom's mother and expended her nervous energy cleaning her old room and then the bedroom they shared. Tom's mother came in to sit with him while Sybil was madly dusting the room.

"Why are you doing that?" Mrs. Brown inquired of Sybil. "Isn't there a maid to do it?"

"I try to do as much as I can myself," Sybil said. "Neither of us likes to be waited on."

"More of your socialist nonsense, I suppose," Tom's mother said to him.

"Ma, we're both socialists."

"Your father will be turning in his grave."

Tom just rolled his eyes.

"How long are you planning to stay?" Tom asked.

"Just a few days. I can see your being well looked after."

They chatted for a bit about some of their relatives and the happenings near Mrs. Brown's home. The sounds of people moving about in the corridor was coming in through the partially open door.

"Mama and Papa must be back," said Sybil. "I'll go down and have a word with them."

Sybil had the windows open and was airing the room. She left the door open as she left so the air would circulate better.

"You haven't told them about your father's family have you?" Mrs. Brown inquired. When Tom got a scowl on his face she continued. "What's the matter? Are you afraid I'll tell them all about your past? Would they be shocked to know you're more like them than your willing to admit?"

"Ma, honestly!" Tom said, with a look of annoyance. "My father's family is nothing like the Crawleys. Sybil's father is a decent man. He treats his employees well. Lord Grantham and Granddad are nothing alike."

"Still, all the summers you spent with them learning fancy manners and all the rest are obvious. Haven't they noticed?" Mrs. Brown looked up suddenly. "Hello, who are you?"

Tom looked over his shoulder and groaned when he saw Lord Grantham standing in the doorway.

"I'm sorry if I'm interrupting," he said. "I heard voices and came to investigate. I'm Lord Grantham and who might you be?"

"Lord Grantham, this is my mother, Mrs. Brown," said Tom. "She came from Ireland to check up on me."

"How do you do?" said Lord Grantham. He was looking at Tom with a peculiar expression.

"Fine thank you," said Mrs. Brown.

"Sybil went down to find you and let you know my mother was here," Tom said. He was cringing wondering how much of the conversation his father-in-law had overheard. Tom's natural father, whom he couldn't remember had worked in a bank and his stepfather, had been an architect. People assumed he was from a poor family because he was Irish and chose to work as a chauffeur. The real truth was his family was well established in the upper middle class and his grandparents on his father's side were wealthy by anyone's standards. The family had almost disowned him when he left the seminary and his relationship with his mother four years later was tenuous at best. His real love was politics and he had always dreamed of a political career. It was not something your family wanted to listen to when they were determined to have a priest in the family.

"I had best go locate her then. If you'll excuse me, Mrs. Brown," Lord Grantham said with a slight bow.

"Ma, I didn't want to tell them. It's not like I stand to inherit or anything."

"You can't deny what you are, Tommy Boy," she said using her childhood nickname for him, "nor where you're from. You'll have to tell them one day."

"You're right," Tom said lying back on the pillows and looking at the ceiling. "I just wish that day was well in the future instead of today."

* * *

Sybil had found her mother and Aunt Rosamund and relayed the news of her mother-in-law's arrival.

"I wasn't sure what to do," said Sybil. "I put her in the Blue Bedroom. She's up with Tom now."

"How long is she staying?" Lady Cora asked.

"Just a few days, I think," said Sybil.

"What is she like?" asked Rosamund.

"Not like what I expected," Sybil said. "She's worried about Tom. That's obvious. She a bit critical, something like Granny but different."

"We'll have to warn your father," Lady Cora said.

"Warn me about what?" Lord Grantham said as he entered the library and started looking through his mail.

"Tom's mother is here," Lady Cora said.

"Yes, I know. I just met her a few minutes ago. Sybil what do you know about his Grandfather?"

"Nothing, he doesn't talk about his family much."

"I overheard him tell his mother that I'm nothing like his Grandfather. It's probably nothing."

"Should I bring her through for luncheon, Mama?"

"Why don't you have Tom join us as well," Lord Grantham said. "We might as well meet as much of the family at once as we can."

"All right, Papa," Sybil said. "I'll go and get them."

Once Sybil had left the library Lady Cora looked at her husband, "Robert, what was all that about?"

"I have a feeling we are going to learn a few things about our son-in-law that he would rather not share. He's hiding something and I'd like to get to the bottom of it."

"Robert we shouldn't pry," said Lady Cora.

"Why ever not?" Lady Rosamund chimed in. "Who better to get the dirt on than someone within your own family?"

"Rosamund," said Robert Crawley. "You sound too much like Mama for your own good."

Sybil got back to the Imperial Bedroom to find Tom there alone.

"Where's your mother?" she asked.

"She went to freshen up."

"Papa wants you both to come down for luncheon. I have to be at the hospital for two. That should be plenty of time."

Tom got up, closed the door and started to get dressed.

"Sybil, I think your father overheard my mother and I talking." Tom paused while he buttoned his shirt. "I told you I worked as a chauffeur because I am good at it and I liked it."

"Yes, I know that."

"My family in Ireland isn't exactly poor. My mother has a cook and a maid. I was raised probably a lot like your cousin Matthew except for a couple of things. The religion of course was different and my families expectations. My grandparents on my natural father's side are well off. My grandfather is a rather nasty man. I don't have anything to do with them now."

"Tom, you've got to stop hiding things," Sybil said with frustration. "My family thinks your some kind of Irish rebel from the worst part of town. It isn't fair to put me in the middle like this."

"I'm sorry. I just want to be judged by who I am, not my family. People back home equate me with my Grandfather. He's the worst type of industrialist. I could never be like him."

Sybil had her arms wrapped around her waist and was looking at the carpet. Tears were starting to well up in her eyes. Tom went over and put his hands on her elbows and then pulled her close. Sybil's hands slipped around his waist.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't think it was important. It's not how I live my life now," he said.

"Oh Tom, when are you going to start trusting me?" The tears were running down Sybil's face.

"I do trust you. I'm not hiding anything else. That's it, I promise."

Sybil just nodded and swiped at her tears before she pulled away and went to the washroom to splash cold water on her face.

"We better find your mother and go to luncheon. If they don't get along you can deal with it," Sybil said. Her hurt and annoyance at being kept in the dark was coming through. "I'm not sticking up for you this time."

The three of them arrived in the dining room just as the rest of the family was gathering. Sybil introduced her mother-in-law to the rest of her family and took her seat. Her feelings were still smarting at being kept in the dark about Tom's family and she was withdrawn and quiet during the meal. Tom kept touching her hand and arm in reassuring gestures until Sybil finally nodded and smiled at him. Her father was watching them intently and only paid passing notice to the conversation around him until he heard Tom's mother mention her son's education.

"We were all disappointed, of course when he decided not to finish his studies. His Grandfather still won't speak to him, but it was Tom's choice. He couldn't make the commitment and I accept that."

"Where did you attend school?" Lady Cora said to Tom. The meal was almost finished. Tom set down his utensils and took Sybil's hand in his under the table. She could feel the tension in his body and squeezed his hand in reassurance.

"I attended a seminary school, Lady Cora. I studied to be a priest. I did six years of the nine required. I have a degree in Theology and another in Political Science."

"And you worked as a chauffeur?" Lord Grantham asked. There were open mouths around the table. Carson had been about to offer dessert to the assembled diners and he was standing stock still in mid stride.

"I had to do something. It doesn't exactly qualify you to do anything besides be a priest. I like to drive so it was a natural choice."

"Good heavens," said Lady Cora. "Sybil did you know about this?"

"Yes, I knew before we got married, Mama."

Mary for once had the good grace to keep her mouth shut and not make any disparaging remarks.

"Tell them," Sybil whispered to Tom.

"Lord Grantham may have overheard me talking to my mother today," Tom began slowly. He looked at his father-in-law. "You see my Grandfather and I don't exactly share a common opinion. He's a wealthy industrialist with two factories just outside of Belfast. When I left seminary, I told him I didn't agree with how he was treating his employees. We got in an argument and I haven't spoken to him since. My family isn't poor or working class. I've been living a working class life because I choose to."

"All this time you allowed us to believe you were a revolutionary?" Lord Grantham snapped.

"My son is no rebel," said Mrs. Brown. "He's rebellious, I'll grant you but he couldn't be further from a rebel if he tried."

"I wouldn't say that Ma," Tom said. "I'm a socialist not a rebel. I do believe in change, but through political means rather than violent ones."

"My, look at the time," Sybil said rising to leave. "I have to be at the hospital in forty-five minutes and I still have to change. Edith would you mind driving me?"

"Of course," Edith started to get up.

"Now don't stay up and tire yourself out, darling," Sybil said as she leaned over to kiss Tom's cheek. "I'll see you this evening."

Carson finally snapped out of his disbelief and offered the dessert to everyone at the table. Rosamund had her napkin over her mouth to hide her smile. She couldn't wait to share the latest news with her mother.

"And what is your opinion on this marriage?" Lord Grantham addressed Tom's mother.

Before his mother could reply Tom ate the last bite of the trifle on his plate and stood up.

"I think I'll collect the paper if you're finished with it Lord Grantham and head back upstairs. I'll talk to you later Ma."

As Tom left the room he heard his mother say, "His marriage? Now where should I start?" It was going to be a long couple of days.


	16. Living in York

Living in York

Tom's mother's visit had been short to Sybil's relief. Her mother-in-law didn't really approve of their marriage although she had not come right out and said anything. It was subtle nuances in the way she looked at them when they were together and the odd comments she made here and there that convinced Sybil she really wasn't approved of. Tom assured Sybil that it was just his mother's way and that underneath it all, she really was happy to see her son in a loving relationship.

Sybil's parents had thrown two more parties before Sybil and Tom left which they had been expected to attend. Sybil had been frustrated with her mother and grandmother.

"What are Mama's soirees all for? Really there are so many other things that need to be done with the war on," she complained.

"I don't mind them," Tom said. "It's actually nice to see someone different once in a while." Tom was going a little stir crazy staying inside all the time and it was getting worse as he got stronger.

The guests at both parties had included men who were involved in the political arena and Tom had found himself discussing political issues with men who were well informed and had strong opinions. Lord Martin had attended the last party as well as two other men with political backgrounds. The men's discussion had quickly become an in depth debate and moved to the library after dinner in order to reference historical fact when one of them disagreed on a point. The conversation had moved so rapidly that Lord Grantham was lost as Tom and two of the men discussed the latest bill before parliament and its ramifications throughout the British Empire.

"Your son-in-law would do well in London," Lord Martin told Lord Grantham. "He's young and idealistic but there are those in parliament who would be hard pressed to debate him."

"I never know quite what to make of him," Lord Grantham confessed. "Just when I think I have him figured out, he comes up with something new."

"Rather boring if you always knew what to expect," said Lord Martin.

On Sybil's last day at Downton Abbey her father asked her to bring her husband to the library before they left. Tom had their cases loaded into the town car in preparation for the move. Tom would drive the car there and Edith would come along to help her sister with the move and return the motor. Sybil entered the library with trepidation. Her father had been more accepting of her marriage in the last few weeks, but was still polite and distant most of the time.

"Oh good, you're here. Do you have everything ready to go?" Lord Grantham asked.

"Yes, Papa. Everything is set."

"I wanted to thank you Lord Grantham, for allowing me to stay," said Tom. "Having me here was an imposition under the best circumstances. I appreciate your generosity."

"There wasn't much choice in the matter but your gratitude is appreciated," Lord Grantham said. "Now for the matter I wanted to discuss with you." He walked to his desk and retrieved an envelope. "I have decided to give you my blessing on your marriage even though it is somewhat after the fact. I have released thirty percent of Sybil's entitled settlement."

Sybil gasped with excitement. Her eyes flew from her father to her husband. She dashed forward and kissed her father on the cheek and smiled radiantly.

"Thank you, Papa. Your approval means everything."

Tom stood back and smiled watching Sybil so excited. These last months of worry and her father's disapproval had taken a toll on her and he had been concerned that it was all too much for her.

"The remainder of the settlement will rest with the estate until I am satisfied with your situation," Lord Grantham extended his hand to Tom. "If you mistreat her in any way, I'll see that your torn limb from limb by a pack of wild dogs."

"I would expect no less," Tom said as he shook Lord Grantham's hand.

"Honestly Papa, you would think we're moving over the sea," said Sybil. "We'll only be a short drive away."

She kissed her father again, then said goodbye to her mother and Mary.

"Mama and I will be up to see you next week," said Mary.

* * *

They had managed to find a furnished apartment over a bakeshop in York that was in walking distance of Tom's work and not too far from the local hospital. They had running water and a washroom although they needed to heat whatever water they needed for washing. Sybil had no problem securing a position as a surgical nurse. With the steady stream of wounded coming from the front, nurses were in short supply. Her new position had regular hours that required her to be at work early in the morning. She returned home in late afternoon, with plenty of time to stop at the grocer's and prepare their evening meal. Tom's health was much better although he still had to get enough rest and take care not to get chilled. The baker, their landlord in the shop downstairs was busy from early morning hours. They woke each morning to the smell of bread and warm floors from the heat of the oven.

A few weeks after they had moved to York, an invitation arrived for a party at Lady Agatha's. Sybil showed the invitation to Tom.

"Would you like to go?" she inquired. "It might be a nice night out. Hopefully there will be some younger people there, although men are in short supply these days."

"Why not? Your Granny and Aunt went to so much trouble to get me that penguin suit I might as well use it. Besides, I like Lord Martin. At least he has opinions, even if I don't always agree with him."

The dinner party included themselves, Lord Martin's son who was home on leave, their married daughter and one other couple. The dinner discussion turned to the need for more space in the hospitals. A number of large family homes had recently been converted to convalescent hospitals and the need was ever pressing.

"We've been considering allowing the house to be used," said Lady Agatha. "Really we are in London so often for the House of Lords it's empty half the time anyway."

"It's an excellent idea," said Sybil. "We just don't have enough convalescent space at the hospital where I am at. Most hospitals are the same. The patients need time to recuperate. I wish they wouldn't separate the ranks. It puts a great deal of strain on the families who live too far away to visit."

"I don't know if I would go that far," said Lady Agatha. "But I certainly have no issue with the local boys being here to recuperate. I have a meeting with the hospital chair tomorrow to discuss it. Do you think you might be able to accompany me? You would understand more about these things than I?"

"Let me know what time your meeting is," said Sybil. "And I will see if I can arrange something."

After dinner once the women had left the dining room, Lord Martin got Tom to himself for a minute.

"I've been wanting to talk to you since the last time we met at Downton," he said. "You have a natural talent for politics. I know a number of members of parliament on both sides of the floor who would be interested in having you on their team. If you're interested, let me know this fall and I'll introduce you around in London."

"Thank you for the offer, Lord Martin, I don't really know what to say," said Tom.

"You have lots of time to think it over. It's not an easy game and this war is changing the old ways. We need fresh ways of doing things on both sides of the floor. Some of my peers think I'm a radical but the ways of our fore fathers are crumbling. You would be a fool not to see it."

"I'm afraid there are those who will resist change to the bitter end. Especially when it comes to anything to do with Ireland."

"The way to affect change is from the inside. It can be frustrating but you can also make a positive difference. Think it over."

"I will," said Tom.

Later that evening, Lord Martin's son approached Tom.

"I overheard my father offering to introduce you around in London. You must have talent or said something that impressed him. Most of us get shipped off to the foreign office or one of the bureaus. Not many make it into the inner circles."

"I read a lot and keep up on the issues."

"Are you signing up?"

"No, There's no chance of that now. I'm still recovering from pneumonia. They wouldn't have me even if I wanted to go."

"I may be a Lord's son, but I hate the bastards that got us into this. It can't end soon enough for me."

"What are you planning to do afterwards?"

"I am thinking of farming. I would like to find somewhere to plant crops and pick apples. Be a farmer with no politics or any of the rest of it in my life."

"You sound like my sister-in-law Lady Edith."

Over the next few months Tom and Sybil's life settled in a regular routine with work, keeping up with friends and family and spending time together. Without the pressure of Tom's illness and family expectations they were able to make love almost daily. One morning after a particularly frenzied session of lovemaking they heard loud singing coming from the bakery downstairs. A few days later they both had late mornings at work and had taken the opportunity to spend the morning in bed. Sybil was lying naked with her head on Tom's chest when they realized the same loud singing could be heard coming up from downstairs.

"You don't suppose…?" Sybil said turning bright red when she realized they had been overheard. Tom began to laugh.

"I wonder how many choruses we took," he said. Sybil looked at him appalled then she started to laugh as well.

"We'll have to think up a way to be quieter in the mornings," Sybil said. "How am I ever going to look the landlord in the face again?"

"Just don't compliment him on his singing," Tom said almost doubled up laughing.

"Ooooh you," she said before she pushed him out of bed and onto the floor.

* * *

Close to Easter Tom was coming home from work more and more frustrated. Sybil knew he was upset about something, but was hesitant to broach the subject. His health was now much better but this last while Tom had been preoccupied. Sybil was having problems with her stomach and the slightest odd smell could send her into a wave of nausea. She was worried about Tom and concerned that he wouldn't take care of himself and get sick again. He wouldn't be fully out of danger until at least late summer.

"Why so glum?" she ventured to ask him one day when he threw the papers he had been reading on the kitchen table and sat back lost in thought.

"There's trouble in Ireland. The transcripts from parliament are full of it, but the editor doesn't want to publish anything about it. He thinks it is bad for public morale. I can get interviews with at least two MP's easily and there are all kinds of reports coming out of Ireland. It's frustrating to say the least."

"You're good at your work. You've said often enough they are always asking you for more ideas for articles. Try again. They'll listen to you if you keep trying." Sybil had put her arm around Tom's shoulders and was rubbing his back while he leaned against her hip.

"I like working at the paper, but sometimes it feels like I should be doing more, as though I were missing something. I can't explain it. Lord Martin talked to me about going to work in London, but I don't know."

"You'll figure it out. Stop being so hard on yourself. You can't solve all the world's problems by yourself."

"No, but I can write about them if they'll let me," he said. After a few minutes Tom began clearing his papers off the table. "What are we having for dinner? I'll make it if you like."

"Sardines, I got some at the fish monger today."

"You hate sardines. Why did you get them?"

Sybil shrugged as she went to the cupboard for some flour.

"I don't know, I just wanted them," she said. "In another eight months or so I'll probably go back to hating them."

"What's the big event in eight months from now that's going to make you hate sardines again?" Tom said.

"The one that is going to make you a father."

Sybil looked at Tom with a hesitant smile waiting for his reaction.

"When, I mean how, oh hell I don't know what I mean. Come here," he said reaching for her. He pulled her into his arms and held her for a long time. "I can't believe it."

"Well you better believe it." Sybil said. "Are you happy?"

"Ecstatic," he said with a huge grin. In the next moment he asked, "What about your work? I don't want you giving up nursing. You've worked too hard."

"In another couple months, I'll move to an administrative job until I'm too far along. It will be fine. It's not like we need the money. I have the money my father gave me."

"I told you to put it away for the future. We'll make do on what we earn. I can always do extra work. Everything will be fine."

"You don't have to do extra, we have more than enough. You never even looked at the check."

"It's your money. Do what you think is best with it."

Sybil went to a small desk in the front room and pulled out her passbook.

"Here," she said handing it to him. "Look."

"Sybil, you know I was only teasing when I said I was marrying you for your money."

Sybil stood tapping her foot waiting for Tom to read the amount. He could be so obtuse at times. Tom finally looked down at the passbook in his hand. He had to grab the back of one of the kitchen chairs when he saw the amount. He looked back at her with his mouth open, not making a sound.

"Ten thousand pounds plus the interest it will have earned by now should be more than enough," Sybil said. "Besides we have the money we put away before we got married. We'll be fine. I'm not worried about the money."

"You had a thirty thousand pound dowry?" he said in a squeaky voice.

"Yes, it's less than Mary's. I'm a third daughter."

"No wonder your father treated me like a gold digger."

"It's not that much. Aren't you going to make me my sardines? I'm hungry."

Tom nodded and went to the counter to get out the utensils. Part way through making the meal he stopped what he was doing, walked over and kissed Sybil soundly.

"What was that for?"

"For choosing me when you could have had anyone you wanted."

"I only ever wanted you. Just don't kiss me again with the smell of fish on your hands," she said suddenly feeling the room spin. "I'm going to be sick."

* * *

The next week Sybil arrived home to find Tom sitting on the sofa in the small living room without any lights on. He didn't move when she came in, not even in response to her greeting. She knew immediately something was wrong and put on a light before she went to sit next to him on the sofa.

"What's wrong?"

Tom came out of his reverie and handed her the telegram he had been holding in his hand. Sybil read the words on the page and looked back at him.

"Who's Colllin?" she asked.

"My cousin. They shot him. They shot him for no reason. Why? I don't understand why."

"Why does any person kill another? I don't think there is a reason anymore. This war, Ireland, I used to think I knew. I don't anymore." Sybil said. She moved closer to Tom and put her arms around him. Suddenly he threw his arms around her and started to cry.

"I feel like such a failure. I should have been there. I should have done something."

"You're not a failure. If you were there, you would be dead now and I would be a widow with a baby on the way." Sybil stroked his hair until he calmed down. "You told me before I went to nursing school there was a reason for everything but we don't know what it is. Someday you'll know."

Tom just nodded as he collected himself. Sybil got up and returned with their coats and an umbrella.

"What's that for?"

"I want you to see something."

They walked towards the hospital. Tom balked at the door.

"I don't think I can right now," he said.

"Yes, you can," Sybil said with a small smile. "It's nice."

They went to the third floor and passed through a door, into a room full of basinets with newborn babies.

"This is where I come when I need to remind myself there is always hope for the future," Sybil said.

Tom just put his arm around her and placed a kiss in her hair as they stood and watched the new life all around them.


	17. Grandparents

Grandparents

Sybil was excited to tell her parents about her pregnancy and had been happily tidying the apartment all week since she had told Tom. When she wasn't at work or tidying she was making lists of everything they would need for a baby. Tom was dreading telling Sybil's parents. All of Lord Grantham's disparaging comments came back to haunt him and echoed through his mind like a bad dream. Coupled with that was the apprehension at the prospect of becoming a father and being responsible for a new life. He was a ball of nerves at the prospect of yet another round of negativity at the hands of Sybil's father.

They both had the day off on Saturday and caught the bus from York to Downton. The bus had open sides and rattled and bounced through the potholes along the way. By the time they arrived in Downton Tom was convinced the driver had deliberately driven over every rock he could find. Sybil was so excited she barely noticed the rough ride and was almost skipping up the drive to the main house.

"Sybil, Tom, I wasn't expecting you," said Lady Cora.

"We took the chance you would be home," said Sybil. "Where's Papa."

"He's out inspecting the roof repairs on some of the cottages. He'll be back soon. We've had some bad news. William has been called up. No one wants to see him go."

"When?" Sybil asked.

"Six weeks or so," said Lady Cora. "We got a letter from Matthew. He's coming for a visit. Cousin Isobel is very excited as are we all."

"It will be nice to see him after so long," Sybil said. "Where are Mary and Edith?"

"Edith is out doing something or other on the home farm. Mary is here somewhere."

"I think I will go and find her," Sybil said.

Tom was alone with his mother-in-law and shuffled his feet feeling somewhat uncomfortable in her presence.

"How have you been Lady Cora?" he said in an attempt to be polite.

"Fine. Do sit down Tom, you look rather uncomfortable standing there. Would you like some tea?"

"Yes, that would be nice." He really didn't want any tea but was too nervous to admit it.

"Sybil seems happy."

"She is."

"Tell me about your new job. Do you like it?"

"It's fine. Not much to tell really," said Tom. His nervousness was making him quiet.

Lady Cora shook her head slightly and continued with her needlework. Just then Sybil came back into the room followed by her father and Mary.

"Well, I see the family is all gathered," said Mary politely. "What is this all about?"

"We have some news," Sybil said with a smile. She went to sit beside her husband and took his hand in hers. "Mama, Papa, you're going to be grandparents."

"Pregnant!" Lady Cora exclaimed. "That is wonderful news. When are you expecting?"

"Christmas," Sybil said. She had a wide smile and was looking to her family for their reactions.

Mary came over to her and kissed her cheek.

"That's wonderful news, darling. I'm sure the baby will be delightful."

Tom was still looking a bit like he was caught in the cross hairs and was watching his father-in-law for his reaction. Robert had remained sullen throughout the exchange until his youngest daughter looked to him for a comment.

"Of course its wonderful news," Robert said. "A grandchild will make your Mama very happy."

Sybil's smile began to falter.

"Aren't you happy Papa?"

"I just wish you had waited a bit until you're truly settled."

"Babies have a way of happening," Tom finally spoke up. "We didn't plan this."

"It seems you two don't plan much," Robert said. "You just do whatever takes your fancy at the moment."

"Papa!" Sybil gasped. "Can't you try and be happy for me. Just this once!"

"Now see here," Tom said rising to his feet. "You've got no call to speak to your daughter that way."

"Robert, really!" said Lady Cora. "Everyone needs to calm down. It's not good for Sybil to get too emotional."

Tom gave Lord Grantham a warning look before he re-took his seat beside Sybil.

"Well, I for one am overjoyed," Mary said trying to diffuse the situation. "Although I do feel a bit like an old maiden Aunt. Did Mama tell you Matthew is coming to visit?"

The conversation continued on discussing the upcoming visit and other news around the house. Carson stepped through the door to announce the arrival of Lady Violet.

"I wasn't expecting to see Sybil here today," she said. "Although I'm always happy to see you, my dear."

"Sybil and Tom have just told us they're going to have a baby," said Lady Cora. Robert was still scowling by the fireplace.

"A baby, well that is wonderful news," said Lady Violet. "I'd say congratulations are in order. What is the problem, Robert?"

"I just wish they'd waited a bit. They're just so young to be parents."

"Nonsense," Lady Violet decreed. "I was younger than Sybil when I had you. Having children is what married women do. Need I remind you that I had two and your wife had three children? I seem to remember Cora being about Sybil's age when she had Mary."

"She's got you there, Robert," said Lady Cora.

On the trip back to York Sybil was lost in thought.

"A penny," said Tom.

"Why is he always like that. I just want him to be happy for us."

"His baby is having a baby. It must make him feel old. It makes me feel old."

"You've just turned twenty-five. You're not old," Sybil said starting to laugh.

"Just think we'll be parents soon and then he'll go to school and have a career and get married. We'll be grey haired in no time."

"What makes you think it's a boy?"

"What makes you think it isn't?" Tom said continuing to tease her.

"Men are so silly," Sybil said cuddling herself against him as the bus bounced along.

"And old," Tom said with a smirk.

* * *

A few days later Sybil's father had taken her to tea when he was in York and apologized for his behavior. Sybil was much happier about the situation with her family. Her stomach was still giving her problems and she had borrowed a medical textbook on pregnancy from the hospital library.

"It says that in the next phase I will experience elevated hormone levels," Sybil told Tom one evening while she was reading. "Oh no, there is a huge list of complications that can develop in the fourth month. What if I get one of them?"

"You should stop reading that book," Tom said. "You're frightening yourself for nothing. You're healthy and young, you shouldn't have any problems."

"Thank you for that Dr. Branson," Sybil said. "Tom… I want some fish and chips."

"Now! It's after eight o'clock at night. Where are we supposed to get them?"

"Isn't there a place that is open late near the station? Please. Please, I just have to have them. I've been thinking about them for two days."

Tom just sighed and went to get his coat. He returned with Sybil's coat as well.

"If I have to go out now for fish and chips, you're coming with me. You're going to get fat."

They walked to the fish and chip shop and sat on stools while Sybil devoured the fish and most of the chips. Tom sipped his mug of tea and shook his head in disbelief.

"It tastes so good," Sybil said. "I was craving them and craving… oh I don't feel so well."

Sybil dashed outside of the shop and promptly lost the contents of her stomach in the gutter. Her husband came up behind her carrying her handbag and patting her on the back while she retched. They went back into the chip shop to get a glass of water and to allow Sybil to sit down until the world stopped spinning.

"Is your Mrs. alright?" asked the lady behind the counter.

"Yes, she's going to have a baby," said Tom. He went to the small table beside the counter where there was a picture of water and some glasses. He filled one and took it back to Sybil who was resting her forehead on her hand.

"With my third it was sausages," the proprietress said. "I still can't look at a sausage after almost ten years."

Sybil smiled weakly at her and sipped the water.

"Just wait until the next round of cravings hits dear," the woman said with a wink. "It's rather a surprise the first time around."

Tom had a puzzled look on his face but immediately forgot the woman's comment as soon as Sybil dashed out the door again.

"Enough with the fish," he muttered under his breath. He couldn't wait for Sybil to start craving something that smelled better.

Two weeks later Sybil was pacing the flat, waiting for Tom to get home. Her skin had felt like it was crawling with ants all day and her breasts had become heavy and hyper-sensitive. The starch in her uniform was making it uncomfortable to wear and the hair on the back of her neck felt as though it was standing straight on end. He body shaped had not changed that much but her waist was getting slightly thicker and her cloths were getting harder to do up. Some things she had given up wearing, as there was no way to get them done up. She was in the middle of the front room when she heard the door open. She dashed across the apartment and launched herself into her husband's arms. Before he had a chance to set down his work satchel or drop the days post on table she had her lips pressed to his and was undoing his shirt.

"It's nice to see you too," he finally managed to say as her lips moved to his neck.

"Now, right now," she growled against his skin as she grabbed the fronts of his shirt and began dragging him to the sofa in the living room.

"Sybil, what's got into you?" Tom asked. He had seen her become somewhat aggressive in their lovemaking but never like this. He dropped the items in his hands on the floor as she began ripping at his tie. He reached up and pulled it off before she managed to choke him with it.

"I've been thinking about this all day," she finally managed to choke out. "Hurry up, it's driving me crazy." Sybil had already pulled her own cloths off and was working on the rest of his. Tom let his jacket, waist coat and shirt drop on the floor then stepped out of his trousers and drawers as she pushed them down. He had managed to kick off his shoes as he was being drug across the room. His arms went around Sybil and he began kissing her in earnest. She was squirming and trying to press herself into him as though he was a drug she couldn't get enough of.

She groaned deep in her throat when he kissed her breasts. Her hands pulled at the skin of his chest and back. Her lips made a trail across his chest nipping at the skin and pressing hot, moist kisses to his neck. Sybil's eyes suddenly flew open and she gasped as she felt him inside her. She started to whimper and groan as the hormones of her pregnancy amplified the sensations. When she finally reached her climax it was more powerful than anything she had felt in the past. Her eyes took some time to refocus and the nervous agitation and strange sensations on her skin that had plagued her all day were gone.

Tom pulled her close and ran his hand over the slight mound of her stomach.

"Sybil are you alright?" he asked concern wrinkling his brow.

"Better than alright," she said. "My cravings for fish are gone. Now I'm craving….," she looked away from his face and colored slightly as she borrowed her face into his chest, "you."

"Am I to expect this everyday when I get home for the next while?"

"I have no idea. The books all say elevated hormone levels."

"Didn't your mother ever mention this?"

"Tom, my mother never mentioned anything between a man and wife, let alone any of the things I've been experiencing this last while."

Tom rugged his hand over his face, before he looked at her with a crooked grin. "I could get used to _this _craving."

Sybil swatted him before she got up and started picking up the mess of clothing spread around the room.

* * *

In August Sybil was five months pregnant. Her symptoms had settled down and she was feeling less of the hormone swings from her pregnancy. A letter addressed to Tom arrived from Ireland that was not from an address she recognized. She placed it on a pile of unopened correspondence and set about cutting up some fruit for their tea. It was too warm to make anything heavier. Tom arrived from work, dropped his bag by the door and began going through the mail. When he opened the mysterious letter he sat down at the table and reread it.

"You had better read this," he said.

Sybil's brow was furrowed as she came to the table and read the letter.

"What do you make of it?" he asked.

"Your Grandfather must have forgiven you before he died," Sybil said handing back the letter. "What do you want to do?"

"I don't want any part of it."

"Fifteen percent must be a considerable amount if he was as well off as you said. Who are these other people listed as beneficiaries?"

"Cousins I've never met. They're all older than me."

"They're requesting a meeting in two weeks. Do you want to go?"

"Not particularly, but I probably should, even if it is to say no."

"Tom, you are thinking with your emotions. If you want to go to Ireland for a visit, I'll go with you. You can make a decision when you've heard what they have to say."

"My natural father's family can be interesting to say the least. At least those I've met."

"Aren't all families," Sybil said. "I never know what mine will come up with next. It can't be any worse than having a Dowager Countess for a grandmother-in-law."

"If they're like my Granddad, it could be worse, a lot worse," Tom thought over the prospect of going to Ireland for the meeting with his relations.

Sybil was watching the play of emotions run across his face.

"Let's go," he finally said. "This is one family rebel that is coming to tea."

"And bringing his English wife with him," Sybil finished.


	18. Aunts and Uncles

Aunts and Uncles

Sybil and Tom stood on the sidewalk in front of his mother's home just outside of Dublin as their driver unloaded their luggage from the back of the buggy. While Tom took care of the driver and picked up their bags, Sybil stood and regarded his mother's house. The house was one of many in a row of well-kept homes in a distinctly middle class neighborhood. It was by no means small and there was the distinct sound of voices and cutlery tinkling coming from inside.

"She's probably invited half the county," Tom said with a half smile. He had warned Sybil before they left England that his mother loved to entertain and would use any excuse to throw a party. "She threw a wake for my step father that lasted three days," he had said. They had sent a telegram to let her know when they were scheduled to arrive. Sybil had been including a note to her mother-in-law with each of Tom's letters over the last few months. The replies had been much friendlier since they sent word of Sybil's pregnancy, but Sybil was still apprehensive at meeting so many of Tom's relatives if only for a short visit.

"Don't worry its only for a couple of days," Tom said. "Ma will be so happy about the baby she won't think of anything else. You'll see."

Sybil put on her best-practiced smile and headed for the door with Tom beside her. Before they could ring, the door burst open and a teenaged boy screamed at the top of his lungs, "They're here!"

Sybil felt herself being propelled in the door into a sea of faces that bore little resemblance to her husband. They all seemed to be talking at once and congratulating her on her marriage and pregnancy and introducing themselves at the same time. All Sybil could do to smile and nod. The entire first few minutes were a blur to Sybil until she saw her mother-in-law coming towards them through the crowd. She hugged Tom and then turned to Sybil and hugged her as well.

"Best not tell them about the title," she whispered to Sybil. Then in a louder voice, "Well, let me look at you! The baby suits you well, you look radiant."

"Thank you, Mrs. Brown. I'm very happy to be here," Sybil said.

At the sound of Sybil's cultured accent a hush fell over the room. There were whispers of "English" and "toff" circulating that could be heard in the sudden silence. Sybil looked from her mother-in-law to Tom. His smile was slowly fading as he moved closer to her and took her hand.

"This is my wife, Sybil," he said loud enough to be heard by everyone in attendance. "She's English, a Protestant and the best person I have ever met. If any of you have something to say, you had best say it now."

There were looks of shock all around then the room erupted into a clamor of voices. Some were calling on saints and crossing themselves others were discussing the news between them. Sybil looked towards an elderly woman sitting on a chair near where she was standing when she heard the words, "It can never work, a mixed marriage. What was he thinking?" Her mother-in-law was standing beside them with her lips pressed together and a look of growing annoyance on her face. Whether it was directed at them or the people in the room, Sybil couldn't be sure. Finally, one of the men came towards them and everyone fell silent.

"You brought an English girl here, after what they did to my son! Have you lost your mind?"

Tom's face was flushed and the corners of his mouth were downturned. Sybil thought he looked exactly like he had when he faced off with her father.

"My wife had nothing to do with that. You can't go blaming her for the actions of another. She belongs with me. I miss Collin too, but disliking someone because they're English isn't going to bring him back."

A collective gasp went through the crowd at Tom's words. The man who Sybil assumed was an uncle, turned bright red.

"You insolent little bastard. You never were any good, now this. I can't abide to look at you." He turned and stormed out of the house. The sound of the glass rattling in the front door could be heard as he slammed it.

"Anyone else have anything to say?" Tom challenged.

There was a great deal of shuffling of feet and a few people began to make their way towards the door. Tom's mother looked at him finally and sighed.

"I warned you your marriage wouldn't be well received. You won't change their minds overnight."

"I know that Ma. I wish you wouldn't have invited them all right away."

"There's no easy way son, sometimes its best to play your hand and let things fall where they may. Now put on a smile. I want Sybil to meet some of the family." She turned to Sybil. "Now don't mind Fergus. He's been grieving something terrible since Collin was killed. Come and meet my sister."

Sybil was taken around and introduced to so many Aunts, Uncles and cousins she couldn't keep the names straight after a few minutes. They were somewhat cooler towards her than when they had first come through the front door, but they were still polite. She found herself answering all kinds of questions on how her and Tom had met and his recent illness.

"We met on the estate where Tom was working," she said not wanting to bring her family connection into things. "We married near the end of my nurse's training. He's better now. Completely recovered, thank you."

"I knew they were in love the minute I saw her clucking over his sickbed," her mother-in-law said more than once.

After an hour or so Tom came to find Sybil.

"What room are we in Ma? Sybil should rest for a bit."

"The front bedroom is ready. Go up for a bit if you like."

Their cases had made their way upstairs before them and Sybil was glad of the excuse to take some time away from Tom's family.

"How are you holding up?" he said as soon as they were in the room and the door was closed.

"I'll be fine," Sybil said with a sigh, "but I do need a little rest." She took off her shoes and went to lie on her side on the bed. While she was turned away from Tom she took the opportunity to take her hanky out of her pocket and wipe her eyes. "How are you feeling? I wasn't expecting your family to be this hard."

Tom came and sat beside her. She reached over and took his hand. His head was bowed and he looked worn out from the stress of the afternoon.

"It's nothing new. I haven't done what they all expected with my life. Some accept it, others don't. I can't do much about it."

"Your mother seems happy we're here. I didn't think she would be after her surprise trip last winter."

"Once she gets used to something she's fine. She tends to say whatever is on her mind. I told you she would be happy about the baby. What do you think of Dublin so far?"

"More church steeples than I expected and less cars," Sybil said trying to cheer Tom up. She moved over on the bed so he could lie beside her. "You certainly don't look anything like your relatives."

"These are all my mother's family and my step-fathers. I'm more like my natural father's family, at least the ones I've met. I don't know that many of them."

"Why don't you go back down?" Sybil said. "I'll stay here for a bit and rest."

Tom got up and headed back downstairs. Sybil was really not that tired but being with Tom's family felt a bit like being caught inside a pepper mill and not being sure when someone was going to give it a twist. She was getting a new appreciation of the strain he had gone through staying with her family and never knowing when the next insult was going to land. We're only in Dublin for two days, she thought. How did he ever do it for almost two months?

* * *

Tom had in fact been right about his mother. Her second husband had been a widower with three daughters. They were all married with children but this would be the first grandchild from her own son. She had warmed up to Sybil and was excited about the prospect of becoming a grandmother. She still said exactly what she thought at any given moment, which put Sybil in mind of her Grandmother although in a smaller and less imperious package.

Their second day at Tom's mother's, Sybil begged off going out with Tom and elected to go shopping with his mother instead. Tom headed off happily with one of his cousins for the day, while the women went shopping in a horse drawn cart.

"Can't abide those motor cars," Mrs. Brown said. "I just can't see why my son likes them so much."

"At least they don't throw a shoe," Sybil said and began telling her mother-in-law of her adventures with Gwen and trying to find her a job. Tom's mother laughed at Sybil's description of her problems with the governess cart and the uncooperative horse. The women finally settled on lunch at a teashop along the shopping row.

"Is Tom happy with his work?" Mrs. Brown asked Sybil once the tea and sandwiches had been served. "He's had such a hard time settling on a career. I wonder if journalism is really the answer. I know he's good at it, but then he's good at anything he sets his mind to. I want to know if he's happy."

"He does like the work," Sybil said after a few minutes. "At times I think he's frustrated. He doesn't say much. He doesn't want me to worry."

"He's so like his father, tight lipped to the bitter end. Never wanted me to worry, but underneath it you just knew. Tom's father wasn't interested in the family business, so he went into banking. His father, Tom's Grandfather, didn't like it, but my husband had to do what made him happy."

"Tom used to talk about moving to Ireland, but he hasn't mentioned it in a while."

"I do miss him, but I have to say I think you're better off away from here. Tensions are rising and there is no love lost for the English these days. There are areas of the city where it wouldn't be safe for you to travel."

Sybil just nodded as she absorbed what her mother-in-law had said.

"I want him to be happy too, but I think Tom will have to decide what he does with his career. He has talent, but he's going to have to decide what he does with it. I can go almost anywhere for nursing. I'll follow him wherever he goes."

"When I first met you at that big house, I wondered what Tom had gotten himself into," Mrs. Brown looked at Sybil with kindness. "I can see now that he made the right choice. The two of you will do fine."

"Thank you for saying so. Your approval means a lot to both of us."

"Now enough of this, tell me all about what's happening with your family. Has your sister found herself a farmer yet?"

That evening they all headed to a local pub and were joined by half a dozen of the relatives who had been at the get together the day before. Sybil found she was enjoying herself despite the fact that her husband's relatives made only rudimentary attempts to include her in their conversation. She danced with her husband, one of his uncles and a cousin before she was handed back yet again to her husband. The dances were new to Sybil and fast paced. She was soon out of breath and clinging to Tom's arms. Her husband seemed more relaxed than he had since their arrival and pulled her as close as her expanding waist would allow.

"You look happy," Sybil said in his ear.

"Why wouldn't I be? I have the prettiest girl in the room in my arms," Tom said.

"More like the fattest," Sybil said. "Can we sit down?"

They returned to the table and sat against the wall so Tom could sit with his arm around her shoulders. Sybil looked up at him and admired the lines of his face and the shape of his mouth. When he looked down at her, she blushed and smiled back.

"She's dead gone on him," said Tom's Aunt as she watched the two of them together.

"They're two peas that fell out of the same pod," said his mother. "They'll do fine."

"But she's a Protestant!"

"It makes no difference to them. She's from a good family. I didn't want to admit it at first, but he couldn't have done better."

* * *

The next afternoon they bid their goodbyes and boarded a train north for the meeting with Tom's cousins. Tom's disposition had grown sullen the further north they traveled. His fidgeting and bad mood was getting on Sybil's nerves. She wanted to say something to try and calm him down, but held her tongue. Whatever decision he made in regards to his grandfather's estate was his to make.

"Where did you put the hotel reservations?" Tom asked. He was frowning as he dug through one of their bags.

"I haven't seen any of the papers for the trip since before we left York."

"I put them right here and now I can't find them. You must have moved them."

"No, I didn't."

"You did. I hate when you get into my papers. I can't find anything."

"I never touched them. You're being ridiculous. Just settle down and you'll find them."

"I am not!"

"Not what."

"I am not ridiculous."

"Oh Tom, stop it, you're getting on my nerves."

"Now I'm a source of irritation. What is it ridiculous or irritating?"

"Both!" Sybil had had enough of his bad mood. She reached over retrieved his satchel and began digging through a pocket on the back. She quickly withdrew a folded piece of paper and handed it to him. "There, now do be quiet. I'm getting a headache."

"You knew it was there because you put it there."

"Eeerrrrr!" she growled. "I'm going for some tea." The next two days couldn't be over fast enough for her. "I wish I'd stayed home," she muttered under her breath as she headed off to ask the steward where she might get some tea.


	19. Family Business

Family Business

Don't show your emotions, straight back, smile, reply politely without saying anything, lift the cup to your lips, only take small sips and place it back on the saucer, all of Sybil's aristocratic training was in full force as she sat in the parlor of the Victorian brick mansion near Belfast that had belonged to Tom's grandparents. Across from her were two of the nastiest women she had ever had the misfortune to meet. She had dealt with her share of snobs amongst the aristocracy, but they had nothing on these two. A third woman, Celia who was about five years older than Sybil was playing hostess, but was so clearly intimidated by the other two that she looked as if she were trying to shrink into her chair.

"How long have you been married?" Sarah, one of the two snooty women asked Sybil. She looked to be in her early thirty's and had the distinct air of someone who sees the rest of the world as something to be crushed beneath her feet. During the introductions she had been identified as Michael Branson's wife.

"Almost a year," Sybil said.

"My don't you work fast. Celia there married Sean, my husband's eldest brother after his first wife died, over a year ago. No sign of a son yet. Sean will be regretting the bargain he made with your father," she said looking directly at Celia.

"We're hoping for children soon," was all Celia said while looking down at her lap.

"Too bad he is not as prolific as his father, although other than our husbands our father-in-law produced all girls." Sinead, the second of the two vicious women and Rory's wife commented. She was openly smirking at Celia's discomfort. "We had a girl show up the other day claiming my husband Rory was the father of her child. He sent her packing of course. She had no proof. Can you imagine the gall, trying to pass her bastard off as Rory's progeny?"

"They'll try anything," Sarah replied. "How dreadful for you."

"How are our husband's all related?" Sybil asked in an attempt to turn the tide of the conversation away from children.

"The senior Rory Branson, our husband's grandfather had three sons," Sarah said. "The eldest died without any offspring. My husband's father had three sons as well. Sean is the eldest. Rory and Michael are twins and old Rory's third son was your husband's father. Isn't your husband the failed priest?"

"Tom was never a priest. He works as a journalist." Sybil took a sip of her tea as a stall tactic. "The men all certainly have a striking resemblance."

"Yes, they do," Celia attempted before Sinead cut her off.

"Rory and Michael are identical," Sinead smirked. "Of course they look alike."

"I've met the other side of my husband's family," Sybil continued. "I saw absolutely no resemblance until we arrived here. They're all very similar in looks despite the difference in their ages."

"What did you do before you got married?" Sarah asked while looking straight down her nose at Sybil.

"I work as a nurse at a hospital in York. I wanted to do something that made a difference for the war effort."

"Work? You're still working after you got married?" Sinead said with a curl of her lip.

"Yes, and I intend to return to work once the baby is around two or three months old," Sybil said.

"How positively provincial," said Sarah with an accompanying nod from Sinead.

"Well, you certainly won't need to _work _after this," Sinead said. "The old man owned controlling interest in a rope works and a glass works. Celia's father is part owner in the rope works. That's why Sean married her."

"I'd like to think it was more than that," Celia said before a look from Sarah sent her shrinking back in her chair again.

"I don't have to work," Sybil said in an even tone. "I work as a nurse because I enjoy it and because there is a need."

"Don't tell me you're one of those dreadful suffragettes?" Sarah questioned.

Just then the door of the sitting room opened and the four men came in. Sybil immediately picked out her husband out of the group. He was the youngest of the four. Sean the eldest looked like an older, heavier set version of Tom while the other two Rory and Michael were slightly taller, had green eyes instead of blue and darker blonde hair. The stress around Tom's mouth was evident. Sybil recognized the look on his face as one of barely suppressed anger.

Sinead rose and went to wrap herself around Rory's arm, although Rory barely acknowledged her presence. Sean pointedly ignored Celia as he went to pour himself a cup of tea and Michael swaggered across the room to drop himself into one of the chairs and leer at Sybil. Tom came over to stand beside Sybil but didn't sit down.

"What did the solicitor have to say?" Sarah asked.

"What's it to you?" Sean demanded turning on her. Sybil had noticed that although he looked like her husband there was hardness about his features and sharpness to his gaze that Tom had never had. Sybil hoped he never would.

"Shouldn't we be enlightened about our husband's business affairs?" she inquired with arched eyebrows.

"It doesn't concern you Sarah and I am not about to fuel that clacking tongue of yours," Sean shot back.

Sybil looked up at Tom. His one eye was twitching. A sure sign that he was stressed.

"My wife and I should return to our hotel," Tom said, trying to think of an excuse to make a quick exit. "Sybil will need some rest. The journey from England has tired her out."

Celia rose to accompany them to the door with Sean right behind her.

"It was very nice to meet you Sybil," Celia began.

"Do be quiet Celia," Sean snapped, he turned to Tom. "Make sure you have those papers signed and back to me no later than tomorrow morning. I have work to do. I can't be wasting my time on nonsense."

"I'll consider carefully everything you've said," Tom replied not backing down from his cousin.

"See that you do." Sean nodded to Sybil before he turned and strode back into the sitting room.

"He's a busy man with a lot of responsibilities," Celia said excusing her husband's behavior.

"Goodbye Celia, it was nice to meet you," Sybil said to her as they made their exit.

* * *

Tom remained silent as Sean's driver delivered them back to their hotel. Sybil had begun to say something to Tom on the trip, when he took her hand and nodded towards the driver. Sybil just squeezed his hand back in understanding and gave him a half smile. Once they were back in their hotel room Sybil took a seat in one of the armchairs and waited while Tom went into the washroom and washed his face. He re-emerged in his shirtsleeves with his hair slightly mussed.

"How bad was it?" Sybil asked.

"Horrible," he said sitting on the side of the bed, resting his elbow on his knee and pushing his hand into his hair.

Sybil moved over to sit beside Tom and put an arm around him. She rested her cheek against his shoulder. His arm automatically went around her and pulled her close.

"If they were as bad as their wives it couldn't have been pleasant," Sybil said.

"My grandfather left me between a rock and a hard place. He stipulated in his will that if I do not accept fifteen percent of his estate, the assets will be broken down and sold and remain frozen until Sean produces a son and the child reaches the age of twenty-five. The miserable old coot wanted to get back at me. If I don't accept the sale of assets would mean hundreds of people will loose their jobs. My cousins, nasty though they may be would loose their livelihoods as well."

"He doesn't seem to have left you with much choice," Sybil said.

"He wasn't that bad until my grandmother died about ten years ago. After that he turned mean. He probably was before but she tempered it a bit. I was too young to realize most of what was going on," he paused and rubbed his fingers across his forehead. "Sean wants me to sign over my proxy to him. I would receive an annual check but have no say in any of the company."

"Isn't that what you want?" Sybil asked not fully understanding all the issues that were at play.

"It's not about the money. It's how the workers are treated in the factories. Their living conditions are deplorable. If I took you there." Tom just shook his head. "It's what my grandfather and I fought about in the first place. I wanted him to improve safety standards and provide compensation for injured workers. He barely paid them enough to get by let alone improve their lives. He flew into a rage, called me every name in the book. He said he didn't want to hear any of my socialist nonsense, either I work for him or he never wanted to see me again."

"Oh Tom, why didn't you ever tell me any of this? I would have understood."

"How do you tell someone that part of your family are made up of people that represent everything you despise? They're so fueled by greed. You should have heard Sean and the other two bragging about how the deregulation in the factories due to the war on the continent is making it easier for them to hire women. They pay them thirty percent of what they would a man and keep production at the same levels. They make me sick."

Sybil stood up and moved in front of Tom. She placed her hands on either side of his face.

"Look at me," she said. When he didn't look up right away she shook his shoulders slightly. "Tom, look at me." Finally he lifted his head and looked into her eyes.

"You're kind and decent and nothing like them. Just because you have the same last name doesn't make you one of them. You'll figure this out. You'll find a way. I know you will. You can't let them bully you."

He put his arms around her and held her close to him for a minute. His head rested against the bulge of her stomach. Tom held back the worst of what had been said during the meeting. Rory and Michael had asked him where he found himself an English wife that put on such fancy airs. Michael had inferred that Sybil must be a prostitute from the theatre district to put on such a convincing act. Tom would have hit him if Sean hadn't restrained him. Sean had given both Rory and Michael grief about their personal affairs and informed Rory that he had paid off his latest "indiscretion".

"I'm sorry I've been so grouchy. I didn't mean to take it out on you."

"I know," Sybil said running his hair through her fingers where it was all mussed. "There's got to be something you can do. Let's go for a walk. It will help you to clear your head."

They walked from the hotel to the botanical gardens. Tom was lost in thought and said very little as they strolled the walks.

"Belfast is a city of such contrast," Tom said. "There are parts like this that are beautiful and prosperous. Other areas the poverty is overwhelming. Everyone is so busy blaming everyone else for the problems. The English are a big part of it, but so are factory owners like my family. If they would just pay the workers enough for a decent life…."

"Changing one or two factories won't correct the entire problem."

"No, but it would be a start."

"You have a good heart. I'm very glad you're nothing like your cousins and chose not to work for your grandfather."

He smiled for the first time all day and gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

"Sean isn't as bad as the other two. He's had a lot of responsibility put on him from an early age. It's made him hard."

"I felt sorry for his wife."

They continued to walk around the gardens for a while then headed back to their hotel. Tom was still quiet but his mood had improved slightly.

"I think I'll go to evening mass," he said. "Do you mind?"

"Of course I don't mind," Sybil said. "It's not like you go when we are at home. Do you want me to come?"

"If you like." Tom stopped at the desk to retrieve the key. "I never thought I would think of England as home, but since we've been here I can hardly wait to get back."

"It's quieter there. My family has pulled some nonsense, but I must admit this trip has been an eye opener."

"That it has."


	20. Decisions

Decisions

That evening Sybil sat on the bed and rubbed Tom's back until he fell asleep. It had been a hard trip on both of them. They had been naïve and optimistic to think that Tom's people would accept them because they were in love. Sybil had always found her Grandmother's manipulation of the facts somewhat irritating, but now she appreciated how much easier it made their marriage accepted amongst her parent's circle. When she got home, she was going to make it a point of having a long talk with her father and letting him know exactly how his continued resistance made her feel.

Tom had calmed down a lot since they attended church that evening. It was the one place they had gone since they were in Ireland where no one looked at them strangely or made any disparaging comments. The service had been somewhat different than Sybil was used to but many things had been the same. She remained quietly seated when Tom had left her side for a while and sat regarding the woodcarvings and painted figures of saints in the church. During the service Tom had opened a prayer book for her and pointed to the correct sections. He had never glanced at it, repeating the words of the various prayers from memory. It was the first time since coming to Ireland that Sybil felt Tom was in his element. She realized how deep his reservations must have been for him to decide to leave the seminary. He was a complex person and she gave thanks that he had come into her life and made the decision to share the rest of his life with her.

When they had returned to the hotel, Tom had said, "I think I know what I have to do. It's not going to be easy."

"The right thing never is," Sybil replied. "I will stand by you no matter what comes."

He put his arm around her and hugged her close to his side.

"I love you, you know."

"You show me everyday. I love you, too." They stood just holding each other for a few minutes. "One thing about being here, I know exactly how you are going to look in fifteen years."

"Don't remind me. I keep thinking someone is going to mistake me for one of my cousins and take a swing at me."

"You said Sean wasn't that bad."

"He's not. He's arrogant but that comes with the territory. He was so busy trying to control the other two and deal with the solicitor, he didn't have time for much else. I'd be just like him if Granddad had managed to push me into working for him."

"You'll never be like him. There is something about him that's just different from you. You can see it in his eyes."

"You mean he's not full of the blarney like I am," Tom said with a smirk.

"Go to bed," Sybil said shaking her head and pushing her self out of his arms.

The next morning Tom telephoned Sean and arranged a meeting. On the way to the house, Sybil commented, "It seems a bit odd to be in a place where there is more than one Mrs. Branson. I can't quite get used to it."

"We'll be home soon enough."

"Home! I like the sound of that."

Sean was at the door to meet them and Celia was right behind him. The men went through to the study while Celia brought Sybil out to the garden to see her rose bushes.

"I'm ever so glad you came back," Celia said. "It's a bit lonely here since we moved to this house. Their grandfather signed the house over to Sean just after we married."

"The roses are lovely," Sybil said. She was rather nervous about Tom's meeting and was trying her best not to let it show.

"Sean is quite anxious for things to go well with your husband. If he has Tom's proxy along with my father's it will give him control and he can move things along better. They've received an offer for a merger with another company. It's a good move but his brothers don't know about it yet."

"How do you know so much about his business affairs," Sybil inquired.

"My father is rather deaf. I used to accompany him to meetings and take notes. That is how I met Sean. All he had to do was smile at me and I was lost. He asked me to marry him six months after his first wife passed away. Of course I said yes."

"I know exactly what you mean. The first time I saw Tom, I thought my heart stopped. They certainly have their fill of charm."

They had circled the garden and come to a small table at the back of the house where a maid was setting out tea.

"Do you think Tom will allow Sean to control his vote?" Celia asked. Her hands were shaking and she looked as though she would burst into tears at any moment.

"What's wrong, Celia? You seem upset."

"It's just been hard. Old Rory Branson, their grandfather wouldn't listen to Sean when he wanted to make changes. Now with his death he's put everyone in such a difficult position."

"I don't know what Tom will do. He is concerned for the welfare of the employees at the factories and that his cousins maintain their livelihood. He's kind hearted but he's stubborn at the same time."

"Sean's been terribly upset since he found out what was in the will. He's not unreasonable, but he has to report to the stockholders. He works too hard most of the time."

"They have more in common than just their looks then," Sybil said. "Tom always works too hard. Even when he worked for my father he was writing articles in his spare time."

"I didn't realize he worked for your father," Celia said. "What did he do?"

Sybil realized her slip too late.

"You might find this a little shocking," Sybil said slowly.

"I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to. I certainly won't tell Sarah or Sinead anything. I wish I never had to have them over."

"I would prefer it if you didn't tell," Sybil said with a small smile. "Tom worked as my family's chauffeur."

"He didn't! Why ever would he do that when he could have easily had a position here?"

"He didn't agree with how his grandfather ran things. So he left. My father pays his employees well. He had a reasonably good job if not an important one."

"Your family must be well off then, and you married the chauffeur? You certainly have more backbone than I do. My father would have dropped dead in his tracks."

"My family were resistant at first but they're coming around slowly."

"What does your father do?"

"Well, you see the thing is…" Sybil hesitated. "He doesn't exactly do anything. He used to be an officer in the army during the South Africa campaign but in my parent's world it is not acceptable to have a job."

"I've never heard of a man with no occupation," Celia said somewhat puzzled. "What does he do all day?"

"Oversees the estate, goes to shoots and attends functions. It's an odd kind of life."

"He sounds like a Lord."

"He is."

Celia's face went even paler than it had been previously. "You're a …?"

"Lady."

"But you said you were a nurse."

"I am. I work as a nurse, but I was born a Lady."

"And you married your chauffeur?"

"I'm a bit rebellious. You won't tell the others will you."

"No!" Celia said with the first excitement Sybil had seen from here. "I'm ever so glad you told me. Now I have a secret those two will never find out. Sean will be flabbergasted to know we had a member of the English aristocracy for tea!"

"You're the only person in Ireland who knows other than my mother-in-law."

"Oh, how delightful," Celia said clapping her hands together.

"What's delightful?" Sean asked as he came onto the patio. He bent over and grazed his wife's cheek with his lips. He was more relaxed than he had been the previous day although he still had an air of haughtiness about him that Tom lacked.

"Sybil's been telling me about her family and how she met Tom."

"Has she now," said Tom, with his old twinkle in his eye starting to show. "The real version or the made up one?"

"I'm afraid I may have let a few things slip," Sybil said.

"Like what?" Sean asked, he had taken a seat at the table and motioned for Tom to take one opposite him.

"Like my wife is a titled member of the aristocracy," Tom said. He started to laugh at the look of shock on Sean's face that was so reminiscent of his own. "Very few people here know. It's not something we spread around."

"And well you shouldn't." Sean said. "It could get you in a lot of trouble in these parts, even shot if you're not careful. Personally I couldn't care less. I have bigger things to worry about."

"You two seem to be getting along well," Celia commented shyly. "Have you reached an agreement?"

"We have," Sean said. "I've called the solicitor to write up the papers. He'll be here after lunch. I can't do anything about the money. You'll just have to take it. The old man's will is iron clad."

"I'll figure something out," Tom said. "I'm pleased people will be able to keep their jobs and live a little better life."

"What did you do?" Celia asked Sean.

"I'm going to increase the wages at the factories, in exchange for Tom's proxy. The updated equipment I wanted will happen anyway with the merger, which will take care of Tom's request for safer working conditions. It will all work out."

"Will they let you do that? The board will never vote for higher wages," Celia said looking alarmed.

"They won't have a choice. As of this afternoon, I will have the majority vote. I'll actually be able to get something done, instead of babysitting my two idiot brothers." He looked at his wife with a small grin. "I might actually be able to get home earlier, instead of working late all the time."

Celia blushed profusely and looked down.

"I'm very glad you've come to an understanding," Sybil said. "It's been very hard on everyone these last few weeks."

The telephone began ringing and Sean went inside to answer it.

"Would you like to go for a tour of the rope works after lunch?" Celia asked Sybil hopefully. "The men will be busy with the solicitor. He's dreadfully slow."

"Yes, certainly," Sybil said to be polite.

"Rory will be there, but he's alright. Michael is the one you have to watch out for. He runs the glass works, so I never go there. I know everything about rope. This will be fun."

Celia had been incredibly well informed about the production of rope to Sybil's surprise. She was even able to point out where new equipment was needed and how it would increase production and make different parts of the manufacturing process safer. Sybil had asked her where the workers lived, but Celia had been reluctant to show her. Finally, after much coaxing Celia had the driver take them through the area where the majority of the workers had their homes. Sybil had been appalled at the conditions. Her soft heart caused the tears to spring to her eyes at the sights and smells of the slum.

"Their grandfather knew about all this and wouldn't change anything?" Sybil exclaimed.

"He was a hard man, with little compassion. He wasn't the only one of his generation to treat his workers poorly. There are many that do."

"It's not right."

"It's how things are. Sean will make changes now. Things will get better at least a little."

"I wish there was more we could do."

"You get used to it after a while."

"I could never get used to this. I know why Tom wouldn't give in and left now."

"He seems like a nice man."

"He is."

Late that afternoon Sybil and Tom returned to their hotel. They were scheduled to head back to England the next day. Sybil had agreed to keep in contact with Celia. Celia had assured Sybil yet again that they would not share anything about Sybil with Sean's brothers or their wives.

"I'll probably never see Sarah and Sinead now that Sean has the proxy," Celia said. "They were always around trying to get something out of the old man. Now there is no reason for them to stop by."

When they were back in their room, Tom pulled Sybil into his embrace.

"How was your afternoon?" he asked.

"Celia knows a great deal about rope production." Sybil looked down and fiddled with the buttons on his shirt. "I had her show me where the workers live. It made me cry."

"It's shocking the first time you see it. I couldn't get the old man to budge. Neither could Sean."

"I just wish there was more we could do."

"There is something," Tom reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled a bank draft out his billfold. "Sean gave me this. I can't give it to charity, it's one of the stipulations. Granddad knew me well. He did not make any stipulations about what I could do with the interest though."

Sybil took the draft from Tom and read the amount. She went to sit on the side of the bed and stared into space.

"What are you thinking of?" she asked.

"There is a charity hospital here in Belfast. They tend to the poorest of the poor. I was thinking of giving the interest to them. The principal would stay in my name, there is nothing I can do about that. What do you think?"

"I couldn't touch a cent made on the backs of those people. Do it."

"Are you sure? We'll be giving up a very comfortable life."

"I've already done that once. The money is not important to me. You are. If this is what you want. Then it is what I want."

"Fine. We'll make the arrangements this afternoon. We best get a move on before the banks close."


	21. September 1916

Fall 1916

The train was almost to York and Sybil was happy to be back. Ireland had been an emotional roller coaster. She had never been sure one minute to the next if she would be faced with open arms or hostility. Her legs were swelling and she just wanted to sleep until she started work again in two days.

"Sybil, I've been thinking?"

"Oh, oh. Should I hide? I'm not ready for another trip like this one. I want to get back to the flat and put my feet up."

"Not another trip exactly. I think we should make it a point to go and visit your Grandmother."

"Whatever for?"

"I wonder what connections she has to the opposition parties in London."

"I'm sure there are some, although I'm probably related to more of the Tories. Why?"

"I was thinking of taking Lord Martin up on his offer."

"Are you sure? You've always talked of going back to Ireland to live."

"I don't think Ireland's such a good idea at the moment. You saw my uncle's reaction and heard what Sean said. It is not safe for you or the baby. The tensions will escalate. When the war is over there will be a fight for Ireland. They'll need people on their side in the English parliament."

"There has to be more to this. There always is with you. You can't fool me anymore, Tom Branson. I know you too well." Sybil teased him. She snuggled against his shoulder with a small smile on her face.

"Factory owners like my Granddad got away with what they did because there are no laws to stop them. That sort of thing goes on everywhere. The only way to stop it is through political avenues. I'd like to at least try my hand in London. I wouldn't work for a Tory. They've just elected a Prime Minister with socialist views. Change is coming. I want to play a part in it. Even a small one."

Sybil suddenly sat up straight with surprise and placed a hand on her side.

"Sybil, what is it."

"I just felt something," she said. "It felt like a butterfly." She took Tom's hand and placed it on her side. "I don't know if you can feel it. There it is again."

Her husband's eyes opened wider and he slowly got a smile on his face.

"The baby is real," he said.

"Of course it is silly. What do you think this round shape of mine is all about?"

"It's just! It just occurred to me. I really am going to be a father. I've just felt my child's life for the first time."

Sybil just smiled and resumed her position against his shoulder.

"I think I understand your father a bit better now. I just want to protect you and the baby. I would do bodily harm to anyone who hurt either of you."

"You haven't hurt me."

"I took his baby away. In his mind its the same thing."

"Just leave my father to me," Sybil said with a wry grin. "I know how to get my way with him."

"I don't doubt that you do."

* * *

Sybil walked across the grounds at Downton Abbey to where her father was supervising a stone fence repair.

"Sybil, I'm surprised to see you. How was Ireland?"

"Ireland was enlightening. Can we walk?"

Sybil took her father's arm as they began to stroll around the grounds. She had always loved the estate in early September as the warmth of the late summer sun penetrated the perpetual wind and coolness of the Yorkshire climate.

"Papa" she began. "I want you to stop arguing with my husband."

"Now see here!"

"I do see. I'm not a little girl anymore. We should have told you before we got married. I see that now. He's a good person Papa, you need to accept it."

"And where is your husband now?"

"He's over visiting with Granny and don't try and change the subject. Ireland was difficult for me Papa. Tom has a large family. Out of all of them the only ones that accepted me were his mother and one cousin and his wife. He had to fight the rest of them for me. I need you on my side Papa, on our side. With both of you I'm safe."

They continued to walk in silence for a few minutes.

"You're my child. I just want to protect you."

"You do! You have, all my life. It is time for me to live my own life now, with you as part of it. How did Mama's family react when you took her away?"

"Not well." He father pressed his lips together in thought. "You're sure about all of this?"

"Very sure Papa. There comes Tom now. Include him in decisions about the estate the way you do Matthew. Please, for my sake. He'll surprise you."

"Sybil tells me you were visiting my mother," Lord Grantham said as Tom approached. "What about?"

"Politics. I'm thinking of going to work in London for one of the parliamentarians. I wanted to discuss it with her."

"She has a shrewd eye and a keen mind. I've always thought my mother would have made a wonderful Prime Minister if women could be elected," Lord Grantham said amiably. "How are your affairs in Ireland?"

"Fine, thank you. My cousin will handle everything. It's all settled."

"So you won't be moving there?"

"No, its not safe for Sybil. It was naïve to ever think it would be. My family was less than receptive to an English wife. Perhaps someday, for now its better if we stay in England."

Lord Grantham looked at Sybil who had moved over to hold her husband's arm. Tom looked different somehow than when they had left a few short weeks ago. There seemed to be maturity about both of them that wasn't there before. Whatever had happened on that trip, they had both grown up considerably.

"I've been thinking about some improvements to the out buildings. Why don't you come and take a look. I could use a second opinion," Lord Grantham said to his son-in-law.

"Alright," Tom replied hesitantly. He looked at Sybil for reassurance.

Sybil gave him a slight smile and nod. She stood and watched her husband and father walk across the grounds. She could here her husband's voice drifting back to her.

"Lady Edith mentioned the other day when she was in York that the home farm seemed to be…."

* * *

"Hurry up, Tom. You're going to be late," Sybil called to her husband.

"How do I look? I can't get my tie straight. Is my hair straight? I feel like I'm going to be sick."

"If you want to meet the Liberal caucus you had best get out the door and stop fussing with your appearance. You'll be fine just go."

Tom emerged from the adjoining washroom to their bedroom at Crawley House in London. Kissed Sybil on the lips and rushed out the door.

"Do you think he stands a chance?" Mary asked as she and Sybil stood by one of the front windows watching Tom get into a car full of men.

"I do. I always have Mary. He knows as much about politics as most of the ministers. Maybe even more than some."

"You're seriously considering a move to London and your husband going into politics?"

"Yes, we are. Honestly Mary, David Lloyd George was just elected as Prime Minister. He's a liberal and an advocate of social reform. That's what a socialist is. There's nothing revolutionary about it. Tom wants to be a part of the process of change. What better way to do that than helping make the laws that govern it in some way?"

"I don't understand half of what you two say about politics. It's all Greek to me."

"All of our family connections should be of use to someone. Before I went to Ireland, I never thought of them as being of any great importance. Now I think they just might do some good."

"That trip changed you."

"Did it? Maybe I am just more vocal."

"More vocal and more comfortable with who you are."

"I suppose you could say I finally know my own mind."

_End of Book II_


	22. Epilogue

Epilogue

The door of the London flat burst open as Tom Branson rushed in, grabbed his wife by the waist and twirled her around in circles.

"It passed! The Representation of the People Act passed today February 18, 1918. As of today I have the right to vote and so does every man over the age of 21! I want to celebrate!"

Sybil was laughing with her husband in his excitement. Their son was in his playpen bouncing on his chubby legs in an attempt to imitate his father. When Tom finally stopped spinning her around Sybil went over and picked up the baby and handed him to his father.

"What about women's rights?" Sybil inquired with an arched eyebrow. "You've said often enough the act doesn't go far enough. I'll be an old lady before I have the right to vote!"

Tom immediately started bouncing his son in the air, much to the baby's delight.

"Hardly that! Thirty isn't old! Full voting rights for women will come, you'll see. This is just the beginning."

"What do you want to do to celebrate?" Sybil asked Tom's smile was infectious and she could feel herself returning it.

"There's a party tonight at the Labour offices. My boss personally asked that his speechwriter attend with his lovely wife. Get out your best party dress! You'll be the prettiest girl there."

"We can't go just like that. We don't have a sitter."

"I saw Mrs. Jones on the way in. She said she wouldn't mind babysitting tonight as long as we weren't too late. Let's go."

"Alright," Sybil said. "I doubt I'll be the prettiest girl there, but definitely the most pregnant."

"You're not even showing yet, and you'll be the prettiest to me."

Sybil laughed at the silly look her husband got when he was this excited. In late 1916 Tom had accepted a position as a speechwriter and political analyst for one of the Labour ministers. He had received two job offers after his introduction into political circles in London and accepted the one from the MP whose views most closely resembled his own. Initially he had a junior position within the MP's office but was moving up steadily through the ranks and was already making a reputation for himself as a shrewd analyst. As well he was still writing a weekly political column for the paper in York.

Their initial move to London hadn't been smooth as it had been difficult to find a flat close to parliament and the hospital where Sybil was working. Sybil had located three flats where the landlords had all made excuses the moment they found out her husband was Irish. At first they had stayed at Crawley House, but the commute had been awkward and they didn't want to impose on her father's generosity any more than they had to. Sybil had been ready to give up looking when one of the men from Tom's office had told them about a two bedroom flat with a small back garden his sister was moving out of. They had signed the lease that afternoon and set up housekeeping the next week.

Once Tom had settled down from his announcement they sat down for some tea. They had four hours before the party and Sybil wanted to share the letter she had received from her mother. Tom was still far too excited and pulled her onto his lap.

"Mama wrote to say that Matthew Crawley has been injured and will be at the hospital at Downton. The telegram they received said he was shot in the leg," Sybil said.

"It's a good thing your parents finally allowed the house to be used as a convalescent home. He won't have far to go."

"And Mary won't have far to go to cluck over him either," Sybil said with a hint of mischief. "Maybe he'll ask her again and she'll finally accept him."

"You can lead a horse to water," Tom said. "Any more word on Edith and Mark's move?"

"They want to postpone their departure for New Zealand until the war is officially over. She is overjoyed at the prospect of living on a sheep farm."

"The last I saw your father he was still in shock. One daughter marries an Irishman and the other a Kiwi. Mary is his last hope."

"Hardly that!"

"Any word on when Sean and Celia will be arriving."

"They should be arriving a week Sunday. Celia and the baby will be accompanying him on his business trip. He will be busy negotiating a new rope contract with the navy."

"Not much stops him when he's on the trail of a new suppliers contract. I pity the poor naval representative who does the negotiations with him."

"I wouldn't pity the man too much. Sean is a silver-tongued devil just like his cousin. The man won't know what happened until the papers are signed and the money is in the bank." Sybil looked at their son who was now fast asleep in his playpen. "We have some time before we need to get ready for the party. How about a private celebration for just the two of us?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Tom said as he picked her up in his arms and carried her to their bedroom.

_The End_


End file.
